The Drop. (A short story by yours truly, about . . . well, I'll let you decide).

In light of all the rain we've had recently, I thought I'd be bold and share another of my short stories with you fine folk.

I hope you enjoy, and that Spring, springs shortly.

The Drop

The party of precipitation was over, and we were heading for the front.

We’d had a lot of fun in training and the party was our last hurrah. It was something every newbie had to attend before their first drop, and every newbie had to do at least one drop.

I see some familiar faces in the cloud, mostly the guys I’d been training with; I even see Bobbie and I like her. She has a nice curve, if you know what I mean?

I thought all the pep talks were over, but before we begin our descent, Big Walt shuffles up.

Now Big Walt is a legend. A complete, you name he’s done it legends. This guy’s been down the longest darkest scariest rivers in the world, over the tallest, fastest waterfalls; conquered Everest and survived the Atacama.

The moment Big Walt opens up, you shut up. You do this out of respect and because you want to hear what he’s going to say.

“Okay newbies.” Silence! No-one can hush a crowd like Old Walt. “Keep it tight out there and let’s not have any collisions, you know what happens if we collide.”

An image of the Doc showing us the aftermath of a collision in training makes me feel all woozy, but I hold it together. Then I realise what Big Walt has done. He’s taken everyone’s mind off of the drop, and suddenly it’s our turn.

“Take it easy guys,” he says as we reach detachment point. “And try to avoid the concrete; you’ll get back a lot quicker if you stick to the soft stuff.”

“OH . . . MY . . .”

The rush, the sense of freedom, the shear thrill of it all, is indescribable.

It takes a second before I clear the cloud, so I guess it’s about two thousand feet to Earth, but what a rush. No wonder this is addictive.

Big Walt flies past in a flash. I don’t know how he does it, there’s so much more to him than me. He changes shape and squeezes through gaps I’d never fit through, but that’s why he’s a legend I suppose.

There’s no way I can keep pace, so I ease up, and as I do, I see Bobbie again.

“Ninety seconds we’ll never forget,” she shouts, and I don’t disagree.

As the ground comes up to meet us, we spot two brightly coloured mackintoshes to our right, so we aim for them.

To most of the world I am nothing but a nuisance, something to shelter from, but for the two young kids stomping in the puddles that Bobbie and I are about to replenish, I’m nothing but fun.

I land with a splash, and the last thing I hear, as Bobbie and I join millions of our comrades in the waterlogged earth, is a giggle, and I can’t wait to get back up there.