The Storm

I am once again sorry for the Short Story Sunday delay…I do have excuses (as always!)…my daughter’s 2nd birthday was this weekend, my brother (best college friend) brought his girlfriend to meet us (First girl we’ve met in about a decade or so…they got engaged the day after they left here), I fed the church family lunch on Sunday in honor of Monkey’s birthday, and I’ve been trying to get the classroom organized after the first week of classes found me woefully unprepared and completely lacking in any organization that I thought I might have…however; none of these things are a good excuse. I will try harder this coming week to have the story up on the day I have promised to have it up!

In fact, I hope to be able to actually post blog posts throughout the week starting this week, with this post! (Well, with the last post but you know what I mean 😀 )

 

Ok, enough talk from me. I hope that you enjoy today’s edition of (Late) Short Story Sunday!

 

The Storm:

This heat is like a second skin that I can’t shake off. Even with the fan blowing canned air in my direction, the slick of burning salt doesn’t go away…I don’t know what is going to happen to me…

Annabelle wearily sat back and rubbed her eyes, only then realizing that the whooshing in her ears was from a torrential downpour parading through her open windows and streaking the green walls gray. Sighing heavily at her own forgetfulness, the authoress forced stiffened muscles from her comfy desk chair and went to close the 5 windows that made up her amazing ‘tower bay’ wall.

The view was amazing from her third story oasis, crashing waves on melting sand framed by sharp cuts of light in the sky. The perfect night for writing a thrilling mystery was unfolding around her…and all Anna wanted to do was anything else at all.

Her heroine was in trouble, deep trouble that wouldn’t end well for anyone involved at this point, and Anna had no idea how to bring her out of this unscathed..or at least alive to finish out the book. She had been sitting at the keyboard for hours, immersed in writing for only the first 30 minutes. The rest of her time had been caught in re-reading and tweaking whatever she came across as her subconscious crowded out anything but the most technical of thoughts. At this rate, the entire first half of the book would be revised and edited to perfection before the second half was ever drafted the first time.

Staring out the window despondently, Anna jumped and screamed when her phone pealed out the beginning to an old boy band song that she was embarrassed to still rock out to. Laughing at her own frightened reflection in the rain stained glass, the writer quick stepped over to see what her best friend wanted at this late hour…

“I caught you!” Genevive crowed ecstatically, cackling into the phone as soon as Anna answered. “You have been locked in your tower all day again, Haven’t You!?”

“Well, yeah, I have to…”

“I KNEW IT!” GEN shouted, “Why don’t you come down from there and live a little, huh? Seriously, life goes on, the book will get finished when it gets finished, and really, it is much harder to find a decent dinner companion than it is to write a novel. Am I right?”

“No,” Anna sighed and suppressed the urge to lecture her friend yet again. Gen wasn’t really that much of a ditz. She wasn’t even really that self-involved. What she was, though, was a an out going people person who was working at her dream job as a high powered middle-exec for some fashion company somewhere. Anna wasn’t even exactly sure what Genevive’s job was, but she worked great hours in even better clothes. People like Gen could never understand why people like Anna stayed inside and scribbled all day.

“I don’t know Gen,” Anna tuned back in to hear her friend begging for a night out. “Why don’t you call one of those numbers you’ve got hidden in the little purple book? Hmm? I have deadlines you know.”

“You need to eat and I know how you shop when you’re working,” Gen countered, honking the horn to prove that she had, indeed, just pulled up outside. Her little sporty two-door hybrid hadn’t even made a dent in the gloom surrounding Annabelle’s house.

“If I didn’t love you…” Anna began

“You’de kill me, I know,” Gen sighed along with her friend. “Now hurry up before they give our reservation to some group of college imbeciles!”

“You got a reservation? Nevermind,” Anna ran down the stairs, grabbed her good scarf and ratty umbrella, and raced through the rain, stopping with her hand on the door handle. It had just hit her, what had to happen next in her story. It was right there, layer out in technicolor brilliance like a certain golden toned stone walkway of yore.

Turning bright eyes toward her house, Anna was frightened once again by her dearest friend as Genevive rolled down the window, pointed at a notebook and pen set, and glared so ferociously that Anna quickly gave in. Sliding in to the seat, Anna snatched at the colored pens and novelty notebook as if it were a lifeline in the storm. And you know, perhaps it was….

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