I love writing. I really do. Yet sometimes pulling the words out of me stabs me as if I have nails in the bottom of my feet. So what do I do? I stroll over to Writing.Com and grab myself a writing prompt. This prompt is ‘The wind howled with delight…’.
She cleaned off the kitchen counters in the silence of her own thoughts. The meal was all right but not outstanding by any means. Their company left soon after the meal, leaving Joyce and her husband, Ben wondering if they did something terribly wrong.
“Did the beef tips taste all right to you?” she asked.
“Hon, your meal was fabulous. Honest,” Ben said with a soothing voice.
Outside the wind howled with delight, sending empty garbage cans tumbling down the street. The blue tick hound in the yard next door sang along with the gale. It was one of those nights that could be filmed for a horror movie. The moon was full but unless you looked up at the right time, you’d see a partial one because of the clouds moving in and out of the area so fast.
Joyce’s expression changed to one of curiosity. “You know Ben; we’ve had eight straight nights of this wind. Do you think that maybe, just maybe this has something to do with them leaving early? After all, the weatherman said that this was highly unusual.”
Ben hunched his shoulders. “Maybe. The thing is Carl and I have been friends since we were in our twenties. I would think he’d feel comfortable talking about it. It just doesn’t make sense.”
December 21, 2012 had come and gone eighteen months ago. According to the Mayans, that was the last day of the fourth world, making this very moment part of the fifth world. Being concurring with this was monumental changes in the Earth’s environment.
Could the howling winds each night be a part of this?
Joyce thought it was a possibility, even maybe a probability. Yes, she was intrigued by the New Age philosophies and teachings. She had been obsessed with it since the spring after the September 11 incident. Who know? Maybe she was onto something that would eventually be proven true. In the meantime, only her husband and her mother entertained the idea of her notions being close to reality.
The next five nights were pretty much the same. About 6:30 in the evening, Ben and Joyce could heard the breeze slowly turning into a gale. By 8:00, they were looking out their front window to watch debris plunge down the street.
They began to pay more attention to the weather station, seeing the hurricanes, typhoons and twisters doing massive damage.
Then suddenly, on July 14, there wasn’t any wind at all. The air was still as afternoon turned into evening. The birds were singing their last songs of the day. As twilight took over, the tree frogs started their chorus.
Ben and Joyce were mystified.
“Do you think it’s over?” Ben asked.
“I don’t think so, Honey. I think we’re just getting a break from it.”
As you can see, this is only a scene. Don’t mistake it for a flash fiction piece. I’ll take any feedback on this that you want to throw at me. 😉