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// lull 
// Story: She Waits for Thunder 
// by The Red Parade 
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The splashing of water, cold against her coat. “Stop that.”

Holiday sticks her tongue out. “Or what?”

Lofty hums in reply. 

“C’mon, live a little! We’re already soaked as-is!”

The pitter-patter of rain falling onto the cobblestone streets around them. Lofty cracks a smile and rolls her eyes.

Holiday kicks at a puddle and sends more water her way.

“You’re an idiot.” It comes out bemused and mirthless. 

“And it’s hard yakka being an absolute drongo,” Holiday responds with a wink.

A distant roll of thunder sails over the rooftops, close enough to be heard but not to be alarming.

Lofty leans to her right and flicks her wing through a puddle, lightly spraying Holiday. Holiday recoils as if she’s been shot and falls to her side with an anguished, over-exaggerated cry. “Argh! You got me!”

“Did I?”

“You’ve slain me!” The flailing of legs against the slick wet stone. “I’m dyin’! Dyin’ I say!”

“You’ll get better.”

Holiday gestures for her to lean in, and Lofty obliges to entertain her. “Come… closer. You gotta tell my family I said this. It’s important. Put it on my gravestone. My final words… are…” It comes out a whisper. “Butts.”

A smile. A snicker. A laugh.

The two are doubled over laughing now, tears lost to the rain that hammers them. 

Lofty wipes her eyes. “You… You’re a bloody idiot.”

“I know! It’s great!” cackles Holiday.

 Even as they smile, something churns in Lofty’s stomach. Somehow, she still feels… off. Upside down. Like things are still wrong between them.