The day began with breakfast. Two eggs over easy made their way into my mouth as I finished chugging a mug of orange juice, the tangy citrus complimenting the richness of yellow yoke. As I pored over the morning paper I felt a frosty draft slither in through the kitchen window, set slightly askew.
“Chilly day so far isn’t it?” Only too true, I thought, hearing the woman on the Channel Nine News. Any previous observation into the quality of the local weather had proven frivolous. My mind raced with the possibility of encountering severe weather by mid-morning, perhaps a tornado or two, or hail and lightning about to ensue.
Upon completion of my meal I noticed the first rogue drops of rain softly splattering against the frail glass of the kitchen window. The sky was a dark grey color with visibility highly limited due to fine particles of moisture hovering in stasis over the lower atmosphere. With the rain’s ever increasing intensity, I wondered whether a careful consideration of previous evacuation attempts would prove necessary. It was within reach of all probability that this was going to be a storm to remember. With the wind speed increasing exponentially, twigs caught in the clutches of the violent fury held little hope of experiencing a significant decline in velocity. With prosperous trees bowing in the wind after what began as a slight quiver, I periodically detected a subtle flashing of a bright light in the sky, predictably coinciding with a certain delay and then a rumbling crash.
Finding the sound of distant sirens adequately convincing, I made my way down those creaky old stairs and into the cobweb encrusted basement. The thought of nearby tornadic activity aside, I was in high spirits as I prepared the essential supplies needed to ride out the gale and associated torrential downpour. Slight cracks in the concrete floor had begun to show signs of receiving excessive moisture by the time I had finished gathering my necessities. The likelihood of leaks in the less than waterproof walls couldn’t possibly result in any sort of positive outcome, and the lack of a solid foundation would contribute nothing more than total destruction in the event of catastrophic winds. Despite these flaws, I trusted that I would not become a victim to any unseen harm as of yet. The consistent pattering of raindrops became more apparent as the falling liquid formed dense sheets in the nearly solid sky. With water slowly seeping into the dips and depressed areas of the less than level floor, I began to reconsider my earlier assumptions of safety. Would I soon drown in a sea of rising basement waters or simply be smashed into oblivion by the sheer force of other more exotic natural phenomena?
A contest entry
- ALMOST ANYTHING GOES by AlohaDolphinLover.
175 points, ended January 19, 2007, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - I WANT A GOOD CLIFFHANGER!! by Taylor Renee.
145 points, ended April 16, 2007, 74 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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wow this was so crazy! great job, great desciption. ...nice vocabulary too! ....im just in awe! great writing!
Tay
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Does he Drown? Oh no! I have to know!
I love your writing. It's so full of imagery and emotion. Every word was perfect and had a specific meaning. This resulted in a dense story. You know like Meaning/Volume of words and your story was so dense it almost broke my computer. It almost fell out the bottom of the hard drive and exploded on the floor!
The weather descriptions were amazing. Ill be sure to call the weather channel and tell them they have a new Weather guy, the one they have now is so boring. Yeah... Its sunny in dullville and light sprinkles over in Blahtowne. This is long. sorry. I had too much coffee and I'm a fast typer.
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This story is very detailed.
I can picture everything in it. You are very good at making me picture things in my mind. Not many people can do that. I'll get to you on the contest after I finish reading everybody else's -
Poetic Death.
If the storm kills ya it will be death by poetry.
When running to a storm shelter, food is the last thing on my mind; if indeed food was a part of your necessities.
I think we all have the feeling that each new and coming storm could be the one sent to end our days and if so we consign ourselves to it.
It is hard to fool Mother Nature.
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This is a very interesting story. You use details very well. Your style of writing is almost poetic with how you describe things. I also hope you will expand on this piece and give us a description of the main charater. Good job! Keep writing and welcome to SW!
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Very descriptive. I loved the second paragraph and the indepth details of the storm coming. Hmmmm...hope you decide to write more of this. Wonder about the character though. No description of him. I want to know what this person is planning on doing.
Welcome to storywrite.
~*Brooke*~
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