Narrated by Slippers
Di morning did come gentle.
Sun peek out like it still waking.
Lady Dee hum while hanging out fresh-washed bedsheets — white ones weh flap soft-soft like church flag.
Mama sweep up near the tank, pausing now and then to feel breeze shift.
Shoes a circle low near the clothesline.
Trevor deh pon him usual sniff-round, checking under di breadfruit tree for leaf fi chew.
Bubbles? Just floating in silence… but mi notice him stay deeper inna di tank than usual.
Mi deh under di guava tree. Mi ear twitch.
Mi nose catch something. Not scent… suspicion.
Birdsong stop.
Breeze cut.
And di light — shift. Like somebody turn down the whole day.
Mi stand. Mi paw press soft into di red dirt.
Socks land beside mi, feather tight to body. Him nuh even talk.
Shoes stop circling and park up pon the fence.
Trevor sneeze twice and start looking to the hills like him remember something he forget long time.
Then…
FLASH!
One white-hot light lick di sky from east to west —
split di cloud like yam peel.
No sound yet. Just light.
Then come di noise.
BOOOOOOOOM!
It shake di zinc.
It rattle di jug on di step.
It send di rooster three houses down bawling like him owe money.
Mama fling open the kitchen window.
“LADY DEE! GET DI CLOTHES — QUICK!”
Lady Dee shout:
“MI NAH FEEL A DROP!”
And just as she seh it—
WAAAPPP!
Rain descend like blessing turn judgement.
Mi dash out.
Lady Dee run barefoot in the mud, trying fi rescue har good sheet before it twist off like propeller.
Mama bawl:
“SET DI ZINC PIECE FROM ROOFTOP TO DI TANK — CATCH DI WATER! DI DRUM LOW!”
Socks try help — but one gust fling him sideways into the pimento bush.
Shoes get lifted and spin like one rural windmill.
Trevor try hold the crocus bag in place — get drag three foot down the slope, legs spread like compass.
Mi bark.
Mi slip.
Mi tumble.
Mi land backside-first in red mud.
Sheet wrap ‘round mi like one lost burrito.
Mi cyaan see. Mi cyaan move. Mi cyaan breathe.
Another flash — another clap — tree limb bruk.
Pear tree mash up proper.
Zinc pan tumble off the ledge and bounce twice.
One basin float pass mi foot like it have somewhere fi go.
And just so…
Silence.
Mi ears ring.
Mi tail twitch.
Mi head wet, heart beatin, and one piece a bedsheet still hold mi hostage.
Rain done.
Sun out.
Like nutten never happen.
Mi crawl out slow.
Mi face caked in red mud.
Mi lick mi paw. Taste like shame and bush breeze.
Socks crouch by the gate, soaked and sulking.
Shoes flat pon the verandah like him lose him will to flap.
Bubbles? Him back to centre, blowing bubbles slow like him reflecting pon life choices.
Trevor deh under the breadfruit tree… still holding a single sock in him mouth like him helping.
Mama step outside, eyes scanning the damage.
Di line mash up. Di white pillowcase dem tun red!
One sheet gone — just gone.
She shake har head, wipe har face, and seh soft:
“Country rain come fast, and it don’t ask permission. I guess this is just one likkle rain”
Mi drop down near di tank, licking red dirt off mi paw.
Whole yard quiet — not defeated… just damp.
Same mi. Same shoes.
But today remind mi:
Inna bush, yuh nuh just bathe in rain.
Sometimes… yuh survive it.”
⸻
Coming Up Next:
SLIPPERS SAYS – EPISODE 7: SCENE 7
A WHO LET OUT DI COW?
Yard calm. But gate creak.
Mass Bubu bull name Trouble just missing —
And mi already know… dis nah go end peaceful.
Di Culture Link 
love the series
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