Tales about Rain

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A Tale about the pelting Rain

Once upon a time there lived a Rain. He lived with his mother, Moody Cloud. One day his Mom said to him:

— You are not about to stop, you twist and turn, don’t you want to go out for a walk, while the weather is so fine? But do not stay outside until the late evening; I’ll be waiting for you here to come back home on time.

Usually Rain goes out for a walk, and runs as much as he wants to. The thing is that Rain thinks that more energy he spends the better it is for everyone. So he splashes at the puddles, drumming into the windows, sliding down on the leaves of the trees. Rain loves to run on the rooftops as well. He runs around without stopping. And he does not get tired at all, as if he has the whole ocean of water inside to pour it out.

People are happy when it rains, especially after long drought season. They are happy for any kind of rain: cheerful, sad, short and long-termed. When it’s raining, people are happy, grateful for it. It would wash dirty roofs, sidewalks, roads. Refresh fields, earth, flowers and trees.

Sometimes it rains for a whole day, sometimes and the whole night, sometimes even for a few days. Everything is in the water then, all the streets and houses and people. Streams of water flow like little rivers across the streets. It is so uncomfortable and wet outside. No, we do not need such a pelting rain! That’s enough! But Rain does not want to go home, he walks, runs, knocks to windows.

Pelting Rain is playful one; he plays with passers-by and sees after them if they would get wet completely or not. What a beautiful picture, when there are thousands of umbrellas outside: bright, colorful, fancy. And the same number of jubilant faces, rejoicing in the rain. He knocks on the umbrellas, saying: «Talk to me!» But people laugh it off, hurry up and do not want to stop and talk to the Rain. And sometimes people’s faces are gloomy and unfriendly. Some of them really do not like Rain: Ugh, DISGUSTING, IT IS SO WET!

«What’s the matter?» the Rain gets confused. «I still pour the water the same way. The same drops, the same rhythm. And people become unhappy.»

Rain began to think, but while he was thinking he remained in limbo above the street, he asked every passer-by: «Why don’t you like me?»

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