Monsoon! His favourite season had entered with powerful winds, roaring thunder, electrifying lightning and blinding rain!
Magnificent! He stood spellbound at the overwhelming sight then rushed out of his house to meet his old friend.
“Come back inside, young man” shouted his mother from the kitchen but he didn’t listen to her. The only sound he listened in rapture to was the sound of the wind whistling, the thunder beating its drums, and the rain strumming down on rooftops and trees before finally plinking to the ground.
PUDDLES! he whooped in glee.
SPLASH he went in one, SPLOSH in another.
Puddles were the best part about the rains.
He saw a large one a bit away. That would be a thrill!
“HERE I CO-OME!!” he yelled as he ran full speed and jumped in it.
The splash never came, nor did little Jim.
A memorial now marks the spot where Jim was last seen, leaping in mid-air into a fathomless puddle.