She rested her head on her hands, elbows propped upon the sill. Weary eyes filled with water and her nose was pressed against the cold glass.
“When will it ever stop raining Mummy?”
“It will stop when the clouds are empty baby, and the stars and moon can shine through them”
“When will that be?” Emily asked
“About half past your bedtime, but before the Sun raises its head.”
Headlights appeared, reflecting off my little girls curls. A car approached slowed on the gravel circle, and stopped at our front door.
“Mummy, a car,” said my little one. I waited to see who would brave to monsoonal type rain to visit us on such a night, Out of the car stepped two men in crisp Army uniform. One carried a small box, the other, a meticulously folded flag. I saw this through the window which was being pelted by raindrops. Teardrops left my eyes that would rival the speed of the rain.
I wailed as the knock came upon the door.
Daddy is home.