Monday, May 11, 2009

The Fourth Storm

Late afternoon, September. It was if a blanket was slowly being drawn across the sky: the pale light slowly smothered by a blue black void. The air was still, fragrant with salt and pine; warm with a tacky dampness. Even the insects, which had just begun their nightly chorus, had quieted. Something was coming. The stillness deepened into a perfect absence of noise.

Only a few people were still scattered across the narrow strip of beach. Most had long since had their fill of sand and sweat and had piled into hot cars and headed north.

The last remaining families turned and faced the blackness. Their movements seemed precisely choreographed. They paused, listened, turned, and jerkily placed hands to eyes. Jaws slackened and pulses quickened. It had come so quickly.

The first explosion of energy was human. Towels, soda cans, radios mixed and swirled as beaching accouterments are gathered and jammed into any space, under any arm, into any hand.


The smallest children are jerked one‑armed out of the berm and dragged up the beach.


The black blanket continued to envelop the sky. As it extinguished the last remaining sunray, a tremendous wind announces its triumph and serves notice to humans hidden away in stores and homes. Thousands of panes of glass shiver in its presence. A jagged tear splits the heavens. Claps of thunder are expected but still jarring ‑ the evening's entertainment had begun.

Shamelessplug alert! If you enjoyed this and would like to read more, please consider ordering my novel, The Fourth Storm from Amazon. If you like it let me know!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts with Thumbnails