There were occasional hailstorms where we lived. Our car parking was covered, otherwise our cars would have been badly dented. Do anyone remember old cars? They were built more like tanks — sturdy and strong. Cars are a delicate material now– more like plastic. I think the first car in my married life was a grey one. I have forgotten the make. The children would sit, stand on it’s bonnet, hardly making a dent.

As a child, seeing hail lining the grass, I had a sudden craving to taste it. I ran to get a bowl from the kitchen. As I put them in my mouth, they melted quickly enough. The white hailstones would look a pretty sight on the green grass. They had no staying power. Within seconds of the hailstorm ending they would disappear too.

 I still put out my hand to catch a few, when there is a hailstorm. I don’t like hailstorms now because of the fear of being out in a car, and it getting dented.




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2 thoughts on “Craving”

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