Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head

The air felt sticky as he brushed a mosquito off my arm.

I patted the red spot that formed where it landed before opening up the wicker basket beside us. He glanced from where he was lying down, sunglasses lazing on his tank top. I handed him a ham sandwich, wrapped haphazardly in foil. Without moving, he got it and started munching.

I picked mine up, unwrapping it carefully before taking a bite. I sat there, leaning my back slightly against his thighs. Nearby, a young boy and girl were running around playing with sticks. I observe their antics, grinning slightly as the boy falls down and is forced to take the girl’s hand.


My focus was broken by him talking. He had finished his sandwich and had tossed the used wrapper on the grass, before putting his hands behind his head.

“Thanks, that was alright.”

I rubbed his knee in appreciation. As I was caressing it, I felt a slight drop on my hand. I checked to see if I was sweating, but then I felt another drop on my shoulder.

“Damn it,” he said, bolting up and grabbing the wicker basket. “Let’s go.” He had his hand stretched out to where I was sitting.

I held on to his hand, but, as he started to pull me up, I pulled him down harder. He ended up on his knees, facing me, his hair now dripping. I put my arm around his body.


This is the 100 Songs Project, a 100-day writing challenge based on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Songs. Every day, I write a short poem, prose piece, or play based on, reacting to, rejecting, accepting, or doing something related to one of the songs in the top 100 list.

Please consider liking Deelaytful on Facebook and following us on Twitter.