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Comfort and Ray (standard:fairy tales, 1500 words) | |||
Author: Maureen Stirsman | Added: May 01 2004 | Views/Reads: 3859/2514 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A Fable. When life seems so hard you can’t go on, when you know you cannot swim another stroke, there is help. You can swim further than you think. Meet Comfort. | |||
Comfort and Ray A FABLE Once upon a time there was a man who lived in a nice house in a nice town with a fairly nice family. He lived his life with the ordinary ups and downs that are common to man, going blithely along his way. But now his children were grown and his wife was gone One day it began to rain, a light rain at first, the kind you say, ‘the grass needs it.' But it didn't stop raining and it rained harder and harder. The thunder was so loud the house shook and the lightening lit the sky like a million light bulbs. Then came the announcement over the radio, “Evacuate! All residents evacuate!” The man did not want to leave the house, but he began to pack his toothbrush, razor, two suits of underwear and waited. Then the rain down came in earnest. Soon the street in front of his house was flooded. Still he hesitated. His son called, “Dad, there are evacuation orders. You better get out now.” “But, son, I like it here. It's a cozy house. Besides maybe the car won't start.” Then the floodwaters came up to his front step. Still he didn't leave but he did watch until the water came into the kitchen. Then he got his keys and waded to the car. He was right, his car wouldn't start, so he went back into the house and climbed to the second floor. By the time the waters got upstairs he could no longer use the telephone. Then he made a hole in the roof and wrapped his pack of necessities in plastic, which he tied around his waist. He put on his bathing suit and pulled himself up through the roof. The waters covered everything but the rooftops and there was no one else in sight. He stood on the top of his house in the very nice neighborhood and watched the water come up to his ankles. Then out of nowhere he saw a white dove, and strangely enough, for he had never heard of such a thing, the dove spoke to him. “Swim, Ray!” “Swim, are you crazy? I am not a good swimmer. I don't even like the water very much.” “Swim!” “But how far do I have to swim, dove? I don't see anyplace to swim to. You can fly. I can barely swim.” “Swim, I said. I will tell you how far. Can you swim to the corner of this street?” the dove asked. “Maybe. I can try.” “That's all I ask. Try. I will fly next to you all the way.” Then Ray took a deep breath and dived into the water and began to swim following the unusual white bird. The end of the block was not that far away. He could probably do that. The bird flew ahead and Ray put his face into the water, one arm after the other stroking the floodwaters and before he knew it he was swimming. He could surely make it to the end of the block, following the dove. But then what? “Don't think about that,” said the dove. “Just trust me!” Ray was frightened in the water. It was cold at first, and dark. He couldn't see the tops of the chimneys or very many trees. “Wait, dove, what if I get caught in a tree top?” he asked. “Don't worry, Ray, I can see where the trees are and the rooftops, too. I won't let you get caught on them. All you have to do is keep your eyes on me.” Then Ray did just that. He stopped looking at the water and the darkness of the approaching night. He followed the dove. Suddenly, before he knew it he was at the corner of his street. Which direction should he go? Ahead he could see the white wings flying through the growing darkness and he took more strokes in the water, swimming faster to keep up. It what might have been twenty minutes or three hours, Ray couldn't be sure how long, but he felt very tired. The dove flew back toward him and said, “Come on, Ray, you can do it.” “I can't. I'm just too exhausted. I can't even think about it any more,” he said, with a weary wave of his arm. Click here to read the rest of this story (82 more lines)
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Maureen Stirsman has 21 active stories on this site. Profile for Maureen Stirsman, incl. all stories Email: tstirs@highstream.net |