A very short story.
Lost in a Memory
The rain fell heavily, as it had been doing for nearly 7 hours now. Occasionally echoes of thunder would reverberate through the surrounding hills and trees. Despite being a couple of days after a full moon it was quite dark, the clouds and rain blocked and diffused any light.
Joe leaned back on the bench seat. He half noticed now that it was crooked, but like the rain it felt like it had always been that way. Two cubes of ice clinked against the tumbler in his hand. There wasn’t much left of them, they had stealthily diluted into the whiskey while he stared vacantly into the rain, lost in his far-flung thoughts.
It was always nights like this where this one particular memory would eventually resurface. Every time he felt it was truly behind him, felt he had moved on, the rain would come, and the memory would come back to weigh on his mind and pull him back to a different time.
There were of course aspects of the memory which he was fond about, but for the most part it was a sore thing to ponder.
He finished the whiskey and set the glass, empty except for transparent remnants of an ice cube, on the arm of the wooden seat and stood wearily.
Joe walked tentatively into the rain, slowly, then with increasing determination.
If anyone had been observing from the porch it would have appeared as though he were enveloped by the hazy, rain-filled air, destined to become a figure lost in memory.