WATER

Guest Post by George Arthur Davis

 

The full Moon courts the planet Venus as all the stars twinkle in delight, over the Thames Village.

In the bedroom of one of the townhouses, the wife screams herself out of a nightmare that startles her husband out of his sleep.

“What the hell is the matter with you,” he shouts.

“It was a nightmare; there was this tidal wave and I was on the beach; it appeared from nowhere and it was about to crash on me but I couldn’t run fast enough.”

 

Across the lane in a townhouse, the woman woke her husband by thrashing around on the bed in such a manner that her husband thought there was an invader in their bedroom.

“Good grief,” he mutters as he shakes his wife awake. “What was chasing you in your dream a tiger or something?”

Relieved it was only a dream his wife tells him. “I dreamt I was on a beach and all of a sudden, one of those tsunami things rushed out of the ocean so fast; I ran so fast and then you woke me.”

 

Down the lane in a townhouse, the woman woke suddenly, toss the blanket off her and felt the bed in such a manner that her husband woke from his sleep with fright, wondering what was going on. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“I thought I peed on myself.”

“What?”

“I had this dream that this storm surge of water had crashed on me, and I was all wet but when I woke up I thought the dream meant I peed on myself.”

 

During their morning ritual in their homes, all the women of the village called each other on the telephone in a crises-cross manner and soon all the women realize that they all in some way had the similar dream last night about water.

 

Days later at the village meeting hall, a man stands at the podium. He shouts to get everyone’s attention. The hall becomes quiet. “I got a great deal for a Caribbean cruise; it will cost us only a hundred fifty dollars a couple as a group for a three-day cruise in the best cabinets with all the other stuff included like it was full price.”

The husbands clap to show their pleasure with the deal, but the wives stayed silent, each recalling that night of nightmares.

“I don’t like it,” one wife says. And then, all the other wives agree with her.

The husbands express their disapproval of their wives dislike of the deal. The man at the podium calls out to his wife. “This is not about that dream you had the other night?”

“Yes it is,” she shouts in a manner to express her fear.

The husbands and wives argue about their pleasure and fear of the deal until the wives win over the husbands.

“Okay. Okay,” the agitated man at the podium says. “There will be other deals for a cruise, so lets go to other business.”

 

The man that stood at the podium that night delivers a flyer to each townhouse in the village. Written on each flyer, ‘the cruise ship that we were to go on a cruise at a bargain rate sailed and returned to port without an incident.’

The wives are subjects of many jokes.

 

It begins as a morning down pour that continues into the afternoon and evening. The ground has become soaked and the water form streams that rush down into the valley where Thames Village calls its place.

It becomes apparent to the people of Thames Village that the water gushing into their homes will not stop soon, so they make their way to higher ground.

Finally, the rain clouds go away. From a safe place, the village folks look at the rooftop of their townhouses, looking like small islands, under a full moon. 

A husband mutters in a sad manner. “Our wives’ premonition was true after all.” END

 

 

George Arthur Davis born in Philadelphia PA (presently resides in Tampa FL): studied creative writing at The Community College of Philadelphia, retired Federal government employee, and presently write short stories. http://gadavis-writergeorge.blogspot.com

Advertisements

Posted on May 29, 2012, in Short Stories. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Nice one George. I like the bit where the third wife thinks she's peed herself. Rough justice. The husbands need a good kicking though.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: