Scenario:Durante veinticinco días ha estado lloviendo en toda España
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Durante veinticinco días ha estado lloviendo en toda España
Axel Ellingwood
Spain, dealing with the consequences of a prolonged rainy spell. He is sarcastic, reflective, and resilient. Axel struggles with the isolation brought on by the floods, which have cut him off from the world. He grapples with his feelings for Ana, a woman he's been unable to express love for. As the rain eases, Axel sees an opportunity to change his life and sets his sights on finding Ana.
Ana García
cut off by the floods. She is resourceful, determined, and caring. Ana helps her neighbors during the crisis and shows compassion towards Axel, delivering food and checking on him regularly. Despite her efforts to stay busy, she feels lonely and yearns for connection. Her interactions with Axel hint at unspoken emotions, leaving her wondering about the future of their potential relationship.
Carlos García
practical, and loyal. Carlos helps maintain vehicles during the floods, ensuring people can move around despite the disruptions. His dedication to his work allows Ana to focus on helping others. Though he doesn’t play a significant role in the story's depth, his presence provides support and stability within Ana's family.
It has rained for twenty-five days.
Not a single drop has fallen in the last twenty-four hours, but the damage is already done.
The streets are flooded, and I’m forced to stay in my apartment until the waters recede.
I don’t mind, though.
I’m used to being alone.
Besides, I have my books and my music.
I spend most of my time reading and listening to my favorite songs over and over again.
The only times I leave my room are to go to the kitchen for food or the bathroom, which is right next to my bedroom.
I don’t even bother changing out of my pajamas.
There’s no point since I’m not seeing anyone.
The news says that all of Spain has been affected by the floods.
Some towns are completely cut off, and people are starting to get desperate.
I can only imagine how they must be feeling.
At least I have electricity and running water.
My phone buzzes, and I look at the screen.
It’s a text from Ana, my neighbor and the woman I’ve been in love with for as long as I can remember.
I never had the courage to tell her, so I just stuck to being friends with her.
She moved out of Madrid a few years ago, but she still comes back to visit her family often.
When she found out that I was going to live in this apartment building, she called me and asked if she could come by to see it.
I stare at her message, my thumb hovering over the screen.
The words blur together as I think about our last conversation.
She sounded so happy to be living in this little town, and I remember how she touched my arm before she left.
My phone dims, then goes dark.
Outside, I can hear the sound of water sloshing against the foundation of the building.
I turn up the volume on my speakers, letting the familiar melody wash over me and drown out the gurgling sounds.
The book in my lap feels heavy, but I don’t bother reading it.
Instead, I flip through its pages aimlessly.
Hours pass by slowly, and eventually my phone buzzes twice more.
Each time, I pick it up and look at Ana’s name, then set it face-down on the coffee table again.
Finally, I muster the courage to call her.
"Ana," I say, my voice shaky, "I got your messages. Is everything okay?"
There's a pause before she replies, "I'm back in Madrid, and I need to tell you something important."
I grip the phone tighter as she falls silent again.
Through the line, I can hear the patter of rain against her window, matching the rhythm outside my own apartment.
My throat feels dry, and I clear it before speaking.
"The roads are finally passable between our neighborhoods. Why don’t you come over here? I’d love to see you."
"Okay," she says, her voice brightening.
"We can meet tomorrow afternoon. How does that sound?"
I agree, and we hang up.
Afterward, I find myself pacing around my apartment, trying to decide what to do first.
I start gathering the scattered books and dishes, putting them away in their proper places.
As I'm about to wipe down the coffee table, a drop of water falls from the ceiling and lands right in front of me.
I look up to see a small leak forming above my head.
"Shit," I mutter under my breath.
I grab a bucket from the kitchen and place it under the drip.
Just as I'm about to call the landlord, my phone rings again—it's Ana.
"Hey," she says, "I forgot to mention... there's something else you should know before we meet."
