Colin was jumpy. He wanted to get outside for some air after being cooped up for three days. The sound of the rain was deafening as it fell on the iron roof. He knew the homeowners were very happy about the rain; they took videos of it falling. But he could not see the fascination. It was damp, wet, and more to the point… it was wet. That was enough. Colin didn’t do wet.
Then one day, accustomed as he was to the sound of those big fat droplets crashing onto the roof; he stopped and listened.
All was quiet. No rain. No noise, apart from the usual rowdy hum of the household.
There was no time for gaiety; he had to act quickly. As fast as a speeding bullet, he was off along the floor, mindful of not being seen. He didn’t want to be spotted as he made a dash for the nearest gap in the woodwork or the luxury of an open door.
Safely outside, he lifted his not-so-handsome face to the sky and inhaled deeply. Fresh air! It wasn’t that the house he lived in had a bad pong; quite the opposite, although sometimes someone’s socks were a bit on the nose.
No, he liked the great outdoors as there was less chance of him being seen or found or hunted down.
He regrouped his thoughts as to the best place he could take shelter. He scuttled off to the carport; it seemed a good starting point. He was as sure as the sun that would shine eventually, that freedom would taste as sweet as he had been dreaming about during the three days cooped up inside. The saying was true, ‘as long as a wet week.’
The car windscreen looked promising. With his natural ability to climb, crawl and fly, he made his way up to the wheels, gripping the deep tread. Then with a nimble, slick movement, he was up on the hood and came to rest on the windscreen.
He sat calmly for a moment, taking a breath and wondering about the complexities of life when, to his horror, he heard footsteps crunching on the gravel floor of the carport. One of the homeowners arrived and opened the car door.
Wide-eyed and fearful, Colin froze.
She started the engine, and the car purred into life. She drove out the gate, turned right and headed down the street. Despite his life being in the balance, well aware he was in full view of the homeowner, he relished the wind in his face, his antenna waving recklessly in the breeze. That is until the rain started again.
The wipers started moving, filling him with extreme anguish. Colin’s wish for a simple, stress-free life popped like a bubble as he was flung at high speed onto the hard, cold, bitumen road.
Dripping, he shook off the excess drops and limped off in search of another shelter to nurse his sore head.
That was a close call for even the most adventurous cockroach.
About the author
Fleur is a Kiwi, living in SE Queensland. She enjoys the fun, challenge, and possibilities of short stories. Fleur is a member of the local writer's group - Rose City Writers in Warwick. For more of Fleur's work: fleursfabulousfables.wordpress.com
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