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Week 54 - (September 16th - 23rd) Stories --- Topic: Thunderstorms DONE!!
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clearly perturbed, the rain pounding down hard
against the cement streets and sidewalks outside.
Once able to locate and get my right hand wrapped
around the handle of a flashlight, I decided to humor
the kids I was in charge of baby sitting by making
shadow bunnies on the wall before me.
Unfortunately, this did not bring said kids much
amusement.
“Can Jenny and I go to bed?” Kevin, the youngest
in age of the kids I was sitting for, squealed out in
a high pitched voice.
“Yeah!” Kevin’s older sister Jennifer instantly
followed up with. “Having no television is no fun!”
“All right you two,” I answered in a slight
exasperated voice. “Since you two are bored, how
about I break you out of that boredom by telling you
a scary story, one which I can guarantee will knock
your socks off.”
This of course filled Kevin and Jenny’s nine and
ten year old faces with pure excitement.
“Yes, yes, tell us a scary story!” Kevin said in
a highly excited voice.
“Fine, you got it,” I instantly responded,
making myself comfortable on the sofa, Kevin and
Jenny quickly joining me.
“You know my friend Nicole?”
“Yeah, uh-huh?” Kevin said, spewed in his
highly excited voice.
“Well the reason she hasn’t bothered stopping by
tonight is because she was killed in a car
accident on the way here, thanks to the thunderstorm
outside.”
All of a sudden, the doorbell started
ringing. “Hold on, let me go see who that is,” I
said, rising to my feet, quickly heading over to
the front door. Getting it unlocked and opened,
revealing none other then Nicole standing just past
the doorway, soaking wet, my ears were filled with
terrified screams, footsteps frantically rushing up
the stairs.

Title:Sorrowing Thunderstorm
Annie jumped with fear and looked up at the sky. Storm clouds were making their way towards her but there was a job to be done. She took a deep breath and started running again. Curse the mechanic for taking so long. Her car was still stuck in the shop. She didn’t have time to wait any more though.
It was freezing out; goose bumps stood up on her skin and she could see her breath when she exhaled. The tip of her nose was cold and her fingers were freezing. There wasn’t any time to get a coat though; she had to do this. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed her though and her eyelids sagged closed for a moment. She forced them open and continued her journey.
She violently pushed the airport doors open; she didn’t waste her time at the front desk though. Annie knew what flight she wanted. The plane was still grounded but all the passengers had filed in and Derek was sitting in his seat. She looked at the plane and pounded on the large glass, desperately trying to get his attention. It wasn’t working; she needed something else. Suddenly, she had the remedy to her situation.
Her cold cell phone was tucked away in her right front pocket. She pulled it out and called Derek’s. He didn’t pick up. Annie let it ring and left a message but it was too late. Derek’s phone was off and the plane was on its way into the sky. She ran outside to watch it fly away, tears staining her face.
Thunder rolled again and lightning cracked in the sky. The plane was gaining height and Annie prayed that Derek would be safe. But she jinxed it. Thunder rolled again and the sky was turning black; an evil light lit the sky and lightning struck the plane. Annie’s heart stopped. Everything went black and she dropped to the ground.
“I’m sorry, Sir. You were listed as her emergency contact.”
“I know.” Derek looked at Annie, pain coloring his features. “Annie,” he whispered. “Annie, what did you do?” Tears fell from his eyes and he grasped her cold, limp hand.
“Derek? Derek, I’m right here!” Annie exclaimed from behind him, unable to gather what was happening. She looked at the hospital bed and gasped. “No,” she said, her voice clouded with tears. She tried to touch Derek but her hand went through him. “No, no, no.” She grasped herself and stared at her dead body. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Derek survived and she was dead. They were supposed to be together.
But she didn’t know…the plane that had been struck with lightning…it hadn’t been his. He had gotten off his plane before it had taken off. Now, tears stun Derek’s cheeks and Annie stared at him, unwilling to move on.
Emotional Storm - 825 words
He had put the phone down slowly and deliberately. He wasn’t used to receiving declarations of love out of the blue like that. His best friend’s wife, what on earth was going on? Not just his best friend’s wife but also his sister-in-law. He needed to think. This was crazy, there’d been no inkling that this might happen, no hints, no signs, no secretive smiles, nothing. He reviewed those occasions when their families had been together recently, searching for any action, smile, touch, silence even, that he could have missed. Anything at all, but no, he couldn’t think of anything that might have forewarned him of this. It just didn’t make sense. What had she said? Something about him not knowing what this was all about. Well, she was right about that, and about wanting to talk, but refusing to say what she wanted to talk about? He should have twigged then that something was up, but it was all such a shock. He’d been foolish to agree to meet her, he could see that now. Not just foolish, downright stupid.
Now here he was, waiting outside the locked pavilion in the gathering gloom. Odd flashes of lightning pierced the black sky and the wind gusted through the trees making the distant street lights appear to flicker. He put up the hood of his anorak and sought the lee side of the building but the swirling wind made it difficult to be sure about which side was, indeed, the lee side. If she didn’t come soon, he would be soaked for the rumble of thunder could be heard above the noise of the traffic on the distant road and he felt the first spots of rain on his hood. He stared through the gloom towards the park gate from which she would approach but there was no sign of her, and as he turned away the ornamental ironwork was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning. He counted the ‘chimpanzees’… and at ‘three’ the bang of thunder, it was close. Now he could hear the rain drumming on the pavilion roof and the wind came in sudden gusts, leaves bounced along the footpath and another flash revealed a figure approaching, struggling against the wind with a hand hanging grimly onto the coat collar. Should he simply walk away now? She hadn’t seen him; he could just slip to the other side of the pavilion and head for the other gate. No, that’s a coward’s way out and what would he do when they next met, when he collected the children or she collected theirs. This was impossible, he must settle it now.
More lightning and more thunder, and the rain was trickling down his neck. She had reached him now.
“Judy, there you are.” Well, that was a tame beginning.
“It’s John, she said. “He’s got to go into hospital tomorrow, they have to do some tests. The thing is…” she paused searching for the right words, “… the thing is you know how close they are, John and Beth, more like a secret society than brother and sister. Well, I wondered if you would tell Beth, you know, break it to her gently, be there with her because she’s bound to take it badly.”
The rain was easing now and the wind slackened. He mumbled, ”Yes, of course, if you think that’s best.”
“I couldn’t ask you on the phone, I felt I had to see you, to make sure you understood.”
“What’s wrong with him? Is he very ill?” This is all very confusing he thought. John? Tests?
“Oh no,” She exclaimed “He absolutely fine, it’s my aunt who’s ill, it’s likely that she will need a transplant soon and he wants to see if he could be a suitable donor. By coincidence they have the same blood group. You know what he’s like, always eager to help. It’s just that Beth will freak out at the thought of her little brother doing something like this.”
“Right,” he said cautiously, ”I understand, it’s just that your phone call left me a little confused.”
“Oh forget about that, I was just a little emotional, what with Aunt Charlotte and John and the thought of telling Beth and you… well you have always been so kind and I knew you would understand.”
The storm had passed and the traffic had lessened, and so had the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. So she hadn’t been declaring her love for him in that way, that was a figment of his over-ambitious imagination. Well, that’s a relief. Or was it? Perhaps he'd been harbouring feelings for Judy that he hadn’t previously acknowledged? Perish the thought! Oh why is life so complicated? They walked to the park gate together and he mused that the storm was over, in more ways than one. Then again, there were likely to be more storms to come at sometime or other.
He had put the phone down slowly and deliberately. He wasn’t used to receiving declarations of love out of the blue like that. His best friend’s wife, what on earth was going on? Not just his best friend’s wife but also his sister-in-law. He needed to think. This was crazy, there’d been no inkling that this might happen, no hints, no signs, no secretive smiles, nothing. He reviewed those occasions when their families had been together recently, searching for any action, smile, touch, silence even, that he could have missed. Anything at all, but no, he couldn’t think of anything that might have forewarned him of this. It just didn’t make sense. What had she said? Something about him not knowing what this was all about. Well, she was right about that, and about wanting to talk, but refusing to say what she wanted to talk about? He should have twigged then that something was up, but it was all such a shock. He’d been foolish to agree to meet her, he could see that now. Not just foolish, downright stupid.
Now here he was, waiting outside the locked pavilion in the gathering gloom. Odd flashes of lightning pierced the black sky and the wind gusted through the trees making the distant street lights appear to flicker. He put up the hood of his anorak and sought the lee side of the building but the swirling wind made it difficult to be sure about which side was, indeed, the lee side. If she didn’t come soon, he would be soaked for the rumble of thunder could be heard above the noise of the traffic on the distant road and he felt the first spots of rain on his hood. He stared through the gloom towards the park gate from which she would approach but there was no sign of her, and as he turned away the ornamental ironwork was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning. He counted the ‘chimpanzees’… and at ‘three’ the bang of thunder, it was close. Now he could hear the rain drumming on the pavilion roof and the wind came in sudden gusts, leaves bounced along the footpath and another flash revealed a figure approaching, struggling against the wind with a hand hanging grimly onto the coat collar. Should he simply walk away now? She hadn’t seen him; he could just slip to the other side of the pavilion and head for the other gate. No, that’s a coward’s way out and what would he do when they next met, when he collected the children or she collected theirs. This was impossible, he must settle it now.
More lightning and more thunder, and the rain was trickling down his neck. She had reached him now.
“Judy, there you are.” Well, that was a tame beginning.
“It’s John, she said. “He’s got to go into hospital tomorrow, they have to do some tests. The thing is…” she paused searching for the right words, “… the thing is you know how close they are, John and Beth, more like a secret society than brother and sister. Well, I wondered if you would tell Beth, you know, break it to her gently, be there with her because she’s bound to take it badly.”
The rain was easing now and the wind slackened. He mumbled, ”Yes, of course, if you think that’s best.”
“I couldn’t ask you on the phone, I felt I had to see you, to make sure you understood.”
“What’s wrong with him? Is he very ill?” This is all very confusing he thought. John? Tests?
“Oh no,” She exclaimed “He absolutely fine, it’s my aunt who’s ill, it’s likely that she will need a transplant soon and he wants to see if he could be a suitable donor. By coincidence they have the same blood group. You know what he’s like, always eager to help. It’s just that Beth will freak out at the thought of her little brother doing something like this.”
“Right,” he said cautiously, ”I understand, it’s just that your phone call left me a little confused.”
“Oh forget about that, I was just a little emotional, what with Aunt Charlotte and John and the thought of telling Beth and you… well you have always been so kind and I knew you would understand.”
The storm had passed and the traffic had lessened, and so had the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. So she hadn’t been declaring her love for him in that way, that was a figment of his over-ambitious imagination. Well, that’s a relief. Or was it? Perhaps he'd been harbouring feelings for Judy that he hadn’t previously acknowledged? Perish the thought! Oh why is life so complicated? They walked to the park gate together and he mused that the storm was over, in more ways than one. Then again, there were likely to be more storms to come at sometime or other.
No, something much less crucial, possibly a brain?

by M (about 900 words)
The sound of thunder awakened him. It was after midnight. The bedroom of his apartment seemed colorless in the glow of the streetlight. The Channel 8 weatherman had predicted thunderstorms, but when he and Sandra had left the party at the Tidewater Hotel, the sky had been clear, the moon out. Where they had gone after that, he couldn't recall.
He had the feeling something was wrong. The central air wasn't running, and he wondered if the power was out. He reached for the lamp, which didn't come on. He didn't feel hot, wasn't sweating. Maybe the front coming in had brought cool air. That was something to be grateful for. The last days of August had been like a heat bath.
Thunder broke the silence again, resonating. "It must be out over the gulf," he thought. It had a peculiar, hollow sound. He lay down and tried to put together what had happened, where he stood in the situation. One of the closets' sliding doors was open. The suit he had put on before going to pick up Sandra that evening was now carelessly draped on a chair, though he didn't remember having done that.
Friday, like the weeks before it, had been cloudless, the landscape undulating in waves of heat as he had met Sandra for lunch at Myrtle's Corner. They had sat at a small table, the old cafe raucous as always with the noon crowd of students and staff from the medical school a few blocks away. Looking up hesitantly from her sandwich, she had told him, her rainwater-blue eyes gazing beseechingly into his.
The pain of it struck him anew as in the surreal light of his apartment he stared at the bedroom ceiling, but now it was a different kind of pain, as though the incident were far away and what he felt was more a remorse for not having been kind. He had said nothing. She had cried silently, wiping her cheek with her napkin.
Climbing out of bed, he went to the desk. He knew she would be mad if he woke her up. That wasn't what he was afraid of, though. What if no one were there? And if she weren't, how could he blame her, especially after today? He picked up the phone, ignoring a less-easily defined feeling that coursed like a dark current beneath his desires and misgivings. The dial didn't light, and there was no dial tone. He pushed the hook repeatedly. Whatever was coming, he thought, it was bad enough to have knocked out both the power and the phones. He wondered if the entire town were without power.
In his mind he could see clearly the Tidewater Hotel as it stood it any bright afternoon over the surf. It dominated a gargantuan pier that stretched far out beyond the breakers. The parking lot, on the seaward side of the hotel, was usually empty except for the cars of locals who paid the nominal fee to fish off a lower platform all the way out at the end. When he and Sandra had arrived, the parking lot had been nearly full. In an ocean of Mercedes and BMWs, he had parked his Honda Accord by the railing, facing east, the sound of the surf several stories below loud in his ears as he and Sandra had gotten out of the car.
She had looked beautiful, in a chic, expensive dress, strands of her long, rosewood-colored hair blown by the sea breeze. Why couldn't he simply have loved her, as she seemed to love him?
Thunder came again, and as he stood in the near-darkness with the phone receiver in his hand, random drops of rain began hitting the window, almost as though something invisible were walking across the glass. He noticed then that the streetlight was out. The source of the weird illumination that rendered everything dimly visible wasn't immediately apparent.
Hanging up the phone, he retraced the events of the party. He had drunk too much. He and Sandra had quarreled again. Why couldn't she see how simple things were, how obvious what needed to be done? Descending the hotel steps after midnight, he had tried unsuccessfully to reason with her, but by then they were no longer on speaking terms with each other. They had recrossed the parking lot as though they were business associates, keeping their hands to themselves. Remembering it, he could hear the sound of her heels on the pavement as clearly as though it had been moments ago.
He hadn't opened the door for her. He remembered that. So filled with jealousy and cold rage was he that he had scratched the paint on the driver's side door, jabbing in the key to unlock it. Buckling his seat belt and putting the key in the ignition, feeling the effects of the cocktails, he thought fleetingly that he didn't need the unnecessary embarrassment of backing into someone's Mercedes. Sandra was facing away from him, statuelike, toward the passenger-side window.
He looked over his shoulder and pushed on the accelerator, but the car wouldn't go. Cursing under his breath, he revved the engine. The luxury cars parked behind him receded. He recalled a black one, gleaming and polished. He felt a bump, heard a rending of metal and Sandra's scream, and had the sensation of being in an elevator going down. Turning around, he saw Sandra gripping the seat, her mouth open, her eyes wide in terror, and darkness and waves coming at him.




You are absolutely right to judge a story as it stands. If it poses questions it doesn't answer, be merciless on cross-examination!

A stone hit the roof. Who threw it? I was in the house but I heard it clearly. Then another and another, thrown with force. But no-one threw them, they were stones of ice, falling with great force and bouncing on the roof. I went out of the front door, and carefully staying under the shelter of the eaves, stooped to collect one of these ice pebbles that had bounced close to the door. Flat, white stone of ice, densely packed, it must have formed at great height, where there was little air and then fallen so far that it gathered great speed in its descent, striking with such ferocity that it appeared to have been hurled with force. Although only an inch long, the speed of such hailstones makes them dangerous. You wouldn't want to be out in that weather.
I began to wonder where my daughter was. At eighteen, she no longer told me the exact details of her travels. She didn't drive-- but then you wouldn't want to drive in that windscreen-smashing weather. Lightning and thunder. Fierce winds blowing.
That was the first storm. After that it just rained and rained.
Twenty minutes later the phone rang. It was still raining. My daughter wanted me to pick her up from the nearby station. I looked towards the northwest and saw another black cloud approaching. I couldn't expect her to catch the bus, as she would then have to walk from the bus stop to the house, and that could be hazardous in this extreme weather. Only a five minute drive to the station...then five minutes back. Taking a risk, but I wanted to get my daughter home. So I drove to the station in the pouring rain. Then lightning and thunder. Just as I drove into the station, the second storm hit. It had travelled faster than me. In front of my eyes a stop sign was blown flat to the ground by a gust of wind. I pulled in to the passenger pick-up lane and my daughter got in as quickly as she could. I drove back out on to the main road. As I drove past the petrol station, I saw sparks. Live overhead wires were being blown against eachother and electricity was arcing across the wires. But I couldn't look too closely at that, I had to watch out as leaves and twigs were being blown from the roadside trees and a wall of water was falling from the sky. Suddenly I couldn't see a thing in front of the car. I couldn't even see the front of the car. I couldn't see out of the window or the windscreen at all. I'm driving a car along a road in a wild storm, leaves and branches flying about and I can't see a thing. Two spots of red...must be the car in front...that's something. Relief, I can see the tail lights of the car in front. Follow them. Don't stop. Slowly, but don't lose sight of them. Inching forward. Can't stop. Someone might hit me from behind. A tree might fall on the car if you stop here. Keep following those lights. I'm approaching an intersection. I can see one or two cars now. Through the greyness, I can make out darker grey oblong shapes over there on the other side of the road. That must be the shops...just vague grey rectangles in an all grey land in the middle of the afternoon. Just shapes. Mere suggestions of the shops so familiar to me. How strange they looked. Like oblong clouds. Unearthly.
The traffic lights were not operating. All power was now out. People approached the intersection cautiously and took turns. Luckily I didn't have to turn left, as there was a large branch completely blocking the road in that direction. I crossed the intersection, going straight on up the hill. A small branch blew down onto the road in front of me. I swerved around it, partly onto the central nature strip. Some cars were now pulling over to stop at the side of the road.
I wanted to keep going. So near to home. Keep going. The car in front came to a complete halt. Don't stop now! Someone might hit me from behind. In their confusion, they indicated right, but then moved left, out of my way. Keep going. Over the hill. Down the hill. Flooding down there. Watch that four-wheel drive plough through. Doesn't look too deep for me if I go slowly. Slowly through the water, now up the second hill. Getting closer to home now, at least turning into my street should be no problem. Spoke too soon. It looks pretty flat, but it's just past the summit. Water is flowing, four inches deep, the whole width of the road. It's like a broad,shallow stream. Crossing the stream, it wants to take the car sideways, but it's not deep enough. I'm across. There's my house. Into the driveway. Into the garage. Safely home. The five minute drive from the station took about fifteen minutes, the longest, scariest fifteen minutes of my life.
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The topic this week is: THUNDERSTORMS
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