A farmer’s tale

Shielding his eyes with his hand, he glanced up at the sky. Still no trace of clouds. The raging sun was beating down. Sweat beads dotted his dark temples, his throat was parched, much like the arid land he was standing on. The drought left deep cracks in the soil.

“How am I supposed to grow anything here,” he mumbled peering around the dry desolate field.

A teardrop escaped from his misty eyes. The barren ground quickly absorbed it. Despaired, he burst into tears.

A sudden rumble shook him and he looked up and smiled.

The first drops spattered down.


It may look like the story has zero connection with the picture, but right after seeing the lush green potted plants, my mind conjured up images of rain and then it drifted towards the plight of farmers (which I read about in newspapers almost every day). I cannot explain why that happened but I guess my subconscious wanted me to write this.

Written for Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

All rights reserved.

35 thoughts on “A farmer’s tale

  1. Very well done and well-connected to the picture, Piyali. The world seems to be suffering (in the Northern Hemisphere, anyway) with such a lack of rain… here too


  2. A good take on the prompt, and a well-conceived story. You’ve worked hard on your descriptions and chosen some good words – I particularly liked ‘spattered’ for example, because it evokes a response for sound and touch as well as for sight, and that goes to make the writing richer. Nice work!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Dear Pyali,

    Many of us can relate to drought these days. I love the way you ended with the welcome thunder. Beautifully constructed story. And as for you link to the prompt…I’m pleased you didn’t write a literal link to it. It’s supposed to be an inspiration not an illustration. Applause!



    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is a great story. So appropriate in the States, where the West is enduring wild fires, lack of rain, and possibly disastrous harvests. The world will appreciate farmers a lot more when prices all rise because of poor yields.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. The joy when the thunder rumbled was tremendous which is another way of saying that you wove this story expertly – I was anxious where it was going and breathed a very relieved sigh at those first droplets. Very well done, Piyali.

    Liked by 1 person

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