Storm Stories

Thunder cracks outside the window, diverting my attention. Thirteen of us write, some of whom do so with water dripping from them. Lindsi threatens to battle the storm itself if it messes with her. Now fourteen of us write. Valerie has gifted classes today, and Kathy must be caught in the storm.

Storm stories: I try to think of some. Luckily, I reached the room long before the storm broke today, but I wonder if Wes took the trash and recycling out this morning. He lingered in bed as I left, considering leaving its warm confines. I bet he didn't. I'm not sure I would've this morning if I didn't have to.

Mama Cox, my great-grandmother, used to have storm stories. Instead of ghost stories, my family used to tell of things that happened to Mama Cox--being locked outside by accident during a storm, hearing people in the house and running outside, having people banging on her door late at night. Of course, it all happened during bad weather.

Thunder growls outside the window, threatening us. Lightning reaches for us, but falls short.

My mind slows, sticking on description, not generating other stories. Maybe I'll try a list.

Storm stories:

• Wes driving back from Panama City on his Harley in a storm while he had a migraine--not good times
• Last year during the ISI we lost power across campus for about five hours while Pat Fox from NWP was visiting
• staying in Apalachicola as a kid during a hurricane--I thought it was cool
• driving to Panama City with Wes, Jeff, and Nancy during the storm of the century because Wes finally had a weekend off and we were going to the beach no matter what--as Jeff's dad said, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" That storm led to the first Albany flooding and Hurricane Alberto. Also, we witnessed Nancy telling Jeff to quit breathing because he was keeping her awake.
• our bedroom door flying open one night during a really bad thunderstorm--one of the few times I woke up during the night. Wes had to nail it shut that night. When we remodeled, we removed that door.
• a huge tree fell in our neighbor's yard during a storm, taking out our fence and crushing their shed. Wes and I slept right through it, so we were surprised when we walked outside the next morning.
• a show on _The Weather Channel_ I've never watched
• watching television news after the last hurricane came through our area and seeing the guy from Lake Park talking about the weather: "I heard a sound like a train, so I decided to walk outside to check the weather. When I put my hand on the doorknob and tried to open the door, it felt like someone was on the other side holding it shut." Hello! It's a hurricane! Perhaps it's not the best time to walk outside. Okay, I understand that impulse; I don't understand confessing it on television. Of course, when I see a television crew anywhere, I turn and walk away, wanting no part of that.

Maybe I'll just play with weather sentences for a while:

• Rain stifles the wildfires.
• Rain serenades me.
• Thunder threatens us.
• Gloom overwhelms the sky.
• Rain inspires growth.
• Darkness sweeps the sky.

Okay, I'm stalling now, running out of ideas. Guess I'll just post and see if anyone else is online.