Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Dark and Stormy Nights
The blog chain started with Christine this time who gave us a creative writing challenge:
Since we are all writer's, I thought it was about time for us to stretch our creative muscles and do a little writing. So, take the following topic and go crazy! Show us what you've got. Your story can be as long or as short as you choice.
The topic: A dark and stormy night.
Here's what I've come up with:
Every window and door was shut and sealed tight, leaving the house hot and airless. The old metal fan caked with dust and creaking with every turn chased the same humid air from one side of the room to the other. We'd gathered round the kitchen table, the way we always did when a storm came, no matter that it was the middle of the night. Mom sat quiet and mostly still except for the occasional tap of her fingernails against the scarred tabletop.
Tonight's storm moved slowly, for nearly an hour it seemed to rumble at a great distance, creeping towards us on padded feet. Then all at once it was here. Thunder shook the walls, and lightening painted our windows bright white. And mom, on her feet, lunged towards the back door that rattled with the storm demanding to be let in.
John had already grabbed hold of one arm, and dad was on the other. Each outweighed her by at least fifty pounds, but she flung them off as if they were no more than a few drops of rain. I dived for her feet, getting kicked in the face for my trouble, as I latched onto her ankle. Undeterred she kept on towards the door, dragging me, a human ball and chain daughter along with her.
"Mom," I screamed as she flicked open the locks that she normally fumbled with. The wind stole the words from my mouth, not that it mattered she was fully in the storm's thrall and well beyond listening.
Normally this was where we I fell back, resigned to letting her throw herself into the storm's arms and be lit up and then struck down once again by lightning's hot kiss. Tonight though, I clung tighter. She dragged me across the wet grass and reached her hands up towards the sky.
I hoped that I would ground her, and that this time the storm would simply pass us by. But just like my seventh birthday when I'd hoped for a brand new bike and got my brother's hand-me-down instead - I was destined for disappointment.
Aaaannnddd that's it:) For more dark and stormy nights follow along with the entire blog chain. Matt's post came before mine and tomorrow the thunder rolls Katrina's way.