Puddles

“Stop stepping in puddles! You’ll get your dress all dirty!”

I watched as she jumped right into the next one. Mud splashed all over her purple frock as she giggled excitedly.

“Come back here!” I was shouting, as I carefully maneuvered the muddy streets. It was supposed to be just a 500-meter walk to the hall, not too long, but leave it up to the rain to leave puddles around on the day of her recital. Her mom is going to be so angry at me if she arrives there all dirty.

Exasperated, I watched as she gleefully ran faster, making sure to jump in every puddle she could find. A little bit of mud fell across her cheeks, and I saw her throw back her head in laughter.

Just then, I saw her stop right in front of an extra large puddle. She glanced mischievously my way, and I shook my head pointedly. Before I can cry out, she jumped in.

There was a plop as the mud swallowed her up entirely. No more giggles, no more purple dress, no more mud-stained boots.

I ran to the puddle and immediately plunged my arm in it, only to find that it was knee deep. Panicking, I screamed out her name and jumped in the mud over and over again, with little success. She was gone, completely disappeared.

I sat on the sidewalk, staring worriedly at the puddle, hoping she’d turn up. Fuck, her mom’s going to kill me.

–
Image source: deviantart.com/framedbynature/art/February-Park-Puddles-115633611
First written December 18, 2017.
#79