Today’s challenge comes from Nat: ‘If you found a pot at the end of a rainbow what would be in it for you and why?’ You can be literal or write prose or poetry.
I have eight more days of challenges left to do! I’d love to do YOUR challenge next. Drop me a comment below, or Tweet me @peterwynmosey, or Facebook me @peterwynmosey or drop me an email at email@example.com
The sky was luminous as we hot-footed into the park. I held your hand carefree, unhooking the dog from his reins. He ran. Enthusiastically skipping childlike from bush to bow to bark. These moments are ours to keep. The sun. The day. The entire simplicity of these worry-free moments where we break from the strain.
This Indian summer would be short-lived. Sudden grey clouds swamped the sky entirely. Thick. Black. And then as if to juxtapose the absurdity: one instant pop-up Welsh monsoon season. We ran for the trees. No coats. No cover. Rain belting down as though it meant to pile holes in the earth. I leave you both here; as dry as this brief wood allows. I run toward the gate for the car to fetch an umbrella for you. I instantly drown.
As I slip across the field as the green sea rises around my feet, I look up to see the most beautiful rainbow. I call your name. I point. I can see the end I tell you. I have never seen one I say. There may be gold. I carry on running, towards the end of the rainbow. You tell me that that’s not how rainbows work, that I won’t find the end. But you are science and I, art. I carry on running. You’re both running after me. Smiling and laughing. I watch you both floundering on the green slipstream. And I know that I am at the end of the rainbow. And some treasures are real.