Impact – a Short Story

This is a short story I wrote and wanted to share 🙂

This is the story of how I saved the world. 

One expects that when the world is at its end, there is smoke, fire, and mass hysteria. But that is not how it happened. Here is my story.

It all started one sunny afternoon. I was in my garden trying to rid it of its dead and salvage what I could. Since it hadn’t rained in over a week and I had just returned from vacation, there was more pulling up what didn’t survive than the celebration of persistence. I was ready to just give up when I felt, the first steamy hot rain drop fall upon my wrist. I folded back my sun hat and look to the sky, not a rain cloud in sight. I checked my wrist to ensure I wasn’t imagining what I felt but it was gone. Was it a mirage or had it evaporated? I gave up that train of thought and continued on with managing my depressing garden. I won’t have green beans this year. I stood up and made my way to the garden hose to bring water to my thirsty plants. There was a slight breeze that wasn’t there before so I closed my eyes to enjoy the slightly cooled air running across my salty, sweaty skin. I inhaled and heard the symphony of water droplets. Some hit the roof, others, the drainage pipes. It was a beautiful sound. My sense of smell caught up with my hearing and I smelled that familiar smell of rain in the air. 

I abandoned my quest for the garden hose. My skin felt the impact the raindrops made when they hit. I opened my eyes to see steam rising from my arms, then looked around me to see my misty surroundings. The sky was still very bright like the rain was coming down from Heaven. I tilted my head back to catch some of the rain in my mouth; so cool and satisfying. 

I looked around to see that I was not the only one enjoying the relief from the mini drought we’d had. I started spinning around in a circle with my arm stretched out as the rain began to come down harder with no chance of letting up. I stop spinning and laughed out loud. It was a great feeling, dancing in the rain. I doubled over in joy and when I felt that I had expended my energy, my laughter tapered off and became loud exhales as I caught my breath. 

My happiness was short-lived when I saw the danger ahead of me. The clouds began to darken. It was raining hard but it didn’t feel like it was raining hard enough to cause an overflow but there it was, just beyond my vision. The overflow hadn’t reached us yet but I had to act fast. It was coming straight for us so I knew that I had to try and slow it down. I wasn’t the only one who saw it. Some ran away, most likely running to find shelter; others ran to try and find help. I felt my fight-or-flight instincts kick in while I tried to decide what to do. I could choose the flight and go hide to protect myself, which would leave me full of guilt. So I chose to fight. 

I grabbed my shovel and a hand rake and started to dig. The first thing that came to mind to slow the water down was to build a trench so that the water flowed down before it continued forward. I ran and put my plan into action. I saw that my actions were being met with gratitude. The elderly and young had more time to get to a safe place. I was joined in my fight and we dug and dug, making the trench deep to stop the rain overflow in its tracks. I dug until I felt it was deep enough. My sweat poured down my face and mixed with the rain. 

After having a brief moment of rest to survey my work, I felt good about what I had done. Through my efforts, I knew that I was making a difference. I began digging to lengthen the trench. The rain inched closer, inflicting fear on those around me. I yelled, “Keep going, keep going. You can make it!” as an offering of encouragement. As if responding to my own encouragement, an idea struck me. I ran into the house to grab any tools I could, to create piping to divert the water that would eventually fill the trench. As I rushed outside, I noticed that the rain was letting up. The sky was opening, and the sun began to peek through. I went and studied the trench. As the rain began to taper, I sighed in relief knowing that the crisis had been averted.

That day, the world was saved. There was no smoke or fire, but there was a flood and a small ant community who during mass hysteria, put their fear aside to save the world they loved. I had to help save their world to ensure there was a future because doesn’t every living being deserve a chance at life? I’d hate to think of what would come of my life without that small ant community. 

Following the flood disaster, my garden began to flourish. I am convinced that it was a thank you for saving the world. My flowers, in full bloom, swayed in the wind as I let the gratitude blow over me.