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Speculative FictionFictionFantasy
Home›Fiction›Speculative Fiction›Raindrop Rhapsody

Raindrop Rhapsody

By Adriana Philips
January 19, 2026
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A street being pelted by falling raindrops
Photorama / Pixabay
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(1)

Gray clouds covered the evening sky. It had been raining since noon, and several streets were already flooded.

Outside a tall skyscraper, a woman with dark hair and a trench coat stood on the sidewalk. She opened a blue umbrella and went left.

Rain splashed everywhere, but she didn’t care if it entered her boots. Neon signs and people passed by her. Soon, she overheard two quick footsteps behind her. A warm hand touched her shoulder, and she turned to face two eager men.

“Hey Cynthia! Do you want to come drinking with us?”

Cynthia looked down at the sidewalk. “No, thank you.”

The other man rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s Friday. You should have some fun. Besides, we want to be friends with you, especially Kyle!”

She stood still.

“Jake,” Kyle mumbled, and then his friend pulled out a large bouquet of roses from behind his back.

“For you, milady!” Jake grinned and shoved them into Cynthia’s hands.

“See, now you must come drink with us! You’re always so polite at work, and it would be rude to say no after giving you these flowers!” Kyle smiled.

Cynthia stayed quiet and walked away with the bouquet.

Kyle gritted his teeth. “HEY! You can’t keep playing hard to get forever!”

He started after her, but Jake stopped him.

“Forget her. The ice queen’s frigid as ever. She doesn’t interact with the other girls, either.”

“Pfft, you’re right. She looks like a crow anyway.”

“Come on, time to go get plastered.”

The two frustrated men walked to Barney’s Bar.

.                                                                      .                                                                      .

After throwing away the roses in a near by trashcan, Cynthia arrived at The Raindrop Café, a place with soft lights, a warm fireplace, and hot drinks. People walking by often thought it was closed. The aroma of coffee filled the room as Cynthia sat at her usual table and ordered a vanilla cappuccino. The owner, Millie, who wore a blue apron, skinny jeans and a blouse took her order. They were alone on this gloomy day.

“Long day again?” Millie asked.

“Yes, and two coworkers tried to seduce me.”

“Was it those guys?”

Cynthia sighed and nodded.

“They don’t take no for an answer. I hope they get washed away in a flood.”

Millie laughed. “Amen! At least the weather’s beautiful.”

A small smile crossed Cynthia’s face.

“Before I found this cafe, I thought I was the only one who liked rainy days. It’s peaceful to watch raindrops fall from the sky. I love the sound they create when they land.”

“It’s like nature’s musical notes. That reminds me, our project is almost ready.”

“Already?” The stoic Cynthia’s eyes lit up.

Millie went to the back room and came back holding a square music box. It was made of crystal, decorated with golden vines and painted raindrops. Inside, there was a cylinder with a long tube on top.

“Oh, gorgeous!”

“Now, we need some fresh rainwater; the only thing that will make this work.”

“I’ll get some!” Cynthia grabbed a small vial from her pocket. She stood outside the establishment and held out the glass cylinder to catch some raindrops.

When she returned to her table, Millie grabbed her hand before she transferred the water into the tube.

“Cyn, are you sure about this? There’s no going back.”

“I’m sure, Millie. This world prefers sunshine; we prefer storms. We’ll become one with the weather and make our raindrop rhapsody. Are you up for it?”

She nodded.

“Okay, here goes.” Cynthia said.

“Let’s hope this works,” Millie whispered.

Cynthia poured the liquid, fingers shaking the whole time. When she finished, Millie pressed the button. The water drained into the cylinder, which moved and played a gentle melody.

Both women closed their eyes and remembered the past.

Scenes of when they first met, their love of rainy days, and becoming fast friends, flashed before them. The discovery of their magic music box, and how they assembled it, and practiced for this moment.

The box played a rhapsody with words no one else knew. As they sat together, their bodies swayed with the rhythm and a calmness settled over them.

.                                                           .                                                                                   .

On Monday afternoon, sunlight stretched across the roads. A pair of women, Debra and Sandy, strolled toward the building that housed the Raindrop café.

“Guess what, Debra. Kyle and Jake got fired after that bar brawl on Friday.”

Debra rolled her eyes. “They were more interested in “scoring” than working anyhow. Sandy, is your sister still job hunting?”

“I told her the position was open, but she’s still on the fence about it.”

Sandy looked at the sky and grinned. “Finally, some sunshine after all that rain.”

As they stood in front of the cafe, Debra peered into the dark windows.

“Is this place ever open?” she asked.

“Don’t know. It’s hard to tell.” Sandy said.

“I can hear sounds inside.” Debra told her.

Sandy pressed her ear to the glass. She heard soft music and tried the doorknob, but it didn’t budge.

“I guess it doesn’t open until later,” she said.

It was then Sandy noticed two big pools of water on the tiled floor.

“Looks like they’re cleaning up.”

Debra shrugged. A clap of thunder sounded in the distance.

“Looks like we’re in for more rain. I don’t want to wait here for coffee; let’s head to Toffee’s.”

The two women turned and headed down the street.

As the clouds moved over the building, the puddles dried up and disappeared for good.


Editor: Lucy Cafiero

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TagsNatureweathermusicalRainfemale friendshipsraindropsMagic Realismcooler weather
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Adriana Philips

An aspiring woman writer with an interest in speculative fiction and mysteries. I have several mini-libraries in my home.

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Latest Comments

  • Ivor Steven
    on
    February 19, 2026
    Thank you very much for reading my poem here on CHW magazine. It was a fortuitous ...

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Ivor Steven
    on
    February 19, 2026
    Thank you for reading my poem here at CHW; I appreciate your thoughtful comments, EugiI

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Cheryl Batavia
    on
    February 18, 2026
    Ivor, the photo is perfectly paired with this poem, both reflecting the uncertainties of this era.

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Eugi
    on
    February 18, 2026
    Beautiful said, and excellent rhyming, Ivor. Where do we land where there is peace and light?

    Beyond My Outpost

  • Susi
    on
    November 3, 2025
    Beautiful, Ivor!

    Paddling In Time

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