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Counting Rain – Flash Fiction

One… Two… Three… It’s raining. Everyone is starting to run looking for shelter. Car and bus do not bother at all. Turn on their wiper and their headlight. Bike riders pull over and check their phone how long the rain will last. Some of them decide to put on their raincoat and continue their course.

I’m still walking my way back home and counting the raindrop. I find myself being really peaceful now, including my water-proof bag.

One hundred thousand five hundred and eighty-three raindrops fell upon me this afternoon. It was heavy rain. I don’t really know how my body counts it. It felt right. It is possible that my brain makes it up though. The thing is when the first drop hits me, a lot of zeros pop up and it will increase like a push-button counter.

It is a supernatural skill. Or maybe nature would call it as subnatural instead of supernatural as it’s not that useful. I only can count droplets that touch me. A shower would not trigger it. Neither leaves nor punches. I mean, I know how many hits that I get yesterday. It was a different kind of counting method.

Other than that, I never caught a cold. I wonder what kind of gift do I have. Is it a gift or a curse? Or maybe just an appendix. I’ll do fine with or without it.

Photo by Geetanjal Khanna on Unsplash