When the Rain Stopped Falling... A Short Short Story

It was raining, but when the man saw the woman across the street, the drops of rain stopped in the sky, frozen in space, suddenly afraid of falling any farther than they already had. They dared not to move one molecule until the problem was resolved between the two lovers.
“Carrie!” he shouted to her, but she pretended not to hear.
Ben, trying to dodge suspended drops of rain, ran across the street to where she stood, mesmerized by a shop window of some store he knew she would never go into. She saw him walk towards her in the reflection of the glass. She watched his body move around the raindrops, his damp shirt showed off the curves of his strong shoulders. His light brown hair, now dark from the rain, clung to his beautiful face. She felt her heart pound as her desire and for him grew, but her fear grew faster. It’s too late, she thought to herself, I’m hopeless. Carrie noticed that he was far enough from her so that he would have to make a strong effort to catch her. She turned to leave but a rather large raindrop positioned itself in front of her face, halting her movement, giving Ben the opportunity to catch up with her.
“Carrie!” he called to her again. “Can I talk to you?”
“Now is not a good time, Ben.”
“We need to talk.”
Reluctantly, she gave in. She had no choice; a puddle had moved under her feet and held on to her shoes. The rain that had fallen on her face before the story began looked like tears around her eyes. She knew that she had to talk to the man, she just didn’t want to talk about what they needed to talk about. Lay low on the defensive, she thought, that always seems to work. “About what?” she finally said.
Her words caught him ruff around the edge. He didn’t want to anything either; he didn’t want to say the words that would make everything real instead of keeping it all in the imaginary.
But before he could get out the words that were stuck at the bottom of his lungs, Carrie quickly said, “It’s not going to work, Ben. I have things I need to sort out before I get into a relationship...”
Her words trailed off in his ear; those were not the words he was going to say...
“... and I think I just need time by myself...” she continued.
It was obvious that she was trying to let him of the proverbial “hook” she had hung him on. He didn’t understand; he wanted to be with her. He wanted to brush the curls of her red hair out of her eyes in the morning like he had done only once before. He was addicted to her face, to her round soft cheeks, spotted slightly with freckles. He wanted to kiss her, press his lips against the lips that had oddly formed words that seemed too foreign for him to understand. His heart beat fast in the dreaded anticipation that he may never see this woman again.
Carrie placed her hand over her heart, tapping her fingers on her skin. “In here...” she began, “it just hurts too much to try again.”
“But we haven’t even tried for the first time-”
“I don’t know if I am ready for you...”
Her round blue eyes caught their reflection in the millions of the surrounding raindrops. (They couldn’t wait to see what happened next...) Carrie reached into her chest, pushed past her ribs and the left lung, and with a deep breath and a soft tug, she pulled her beating heart out of her body. It lay in her open hand, unprotected and vulnerable. The heart had many cracks in it and it beat irregularly. Several quick, silver sparks sprang from it, like a shorted circuit. “It’s fragile, and I am afraid that any more damage may cause it to break entirely.”
They both stood facing each other, examining the heart.
“Can you handle something like this?” she asked him.
Without a word, a look or a smile- without any warning whatsoever- Ben reached into his chest and pulled out his heart, too. The raindrops, meanwhile, though they found this all very romantic, felt tired of holding their spot in the sky and thought that perhaps it was finally time to let go of their fear and fall again; this time, with the intention of washing away the blood that had seeped into the cracks and crevasses of the hearts that still lay in the silly humans’ hands. Carrie could see the deep wounds that Ben’s heart held; some healed, some still fresh. She looked at her own; they resembled each other’s.
“I guess I’m not the only one.”
Ben shook his head no. He gave her a slight smile. “The question is, are we ready for each other?”
The rain began to come down light at first, then harder, fusing with the blood that had pooled in their hands, diluting it to make the liquid overflow and tumble onto the sidewalk, splashed into the puddles at their feet, spilled into the water gathering in the street and mixed with the water that flowed in the gutters. The blood was no longer red by the time it reached the sewer; it had all become one with the water, indistinguishable and unfamiliar as a separate entity.
As eyes watched the water flow under the city, the two people who had stood on the sidewalk, wondering whose heart was damaged more, began to melt under the weight of the falling rain.