Friday, August 26, 2011

Hurricane Writer

Hurrican Irene. 'Nuff said. Write your hurricane story. Make your voice heard. If you're somewhere else, write an anti-hurricane story.

Eye of the Storm

I stood near the open garage door, as a garbage can flew past me. "Close one," I yelled, over the huffing and puffing noises. I should really take shelter inside and wait until this blows over, but I was hypnotized by the rage and fury. I wondered what next? I didn't have to wait long. A sturdy shrub, that had grown millimeters into my neighbors yard was yanked out the ground. Dirt and twigs slammed against the side of the house, then slid down like a figther who'd take his last punch. Paralyzed the the display, I squinted in defiance. A cop car cruised down the street, eyeing me. Without warning, a calmness overtook the entire scene.

My nextdoor neighbor came over. "I'll clean up the mess, but next time," he leaned into me, "make sure your herd of hamsters poop on your yard, not mine.

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