~ The Storm ~

~ Early that day, she drove into town. Alone. It was rare for a woman to drive a car so far. But she had spirit, and she had a driving force to set the pace for other women, .... and she had a car. A 1946 Ford, and it was hers. She was sure people talked, but she didn't care. She was an independent woman, a good Mother, and she had a job to do. She didn't leave the farm often, but that day, she was on a mission, twenty-six miles from home.

"Let them talk," she thought as she neared a group of women by the road. She knew they had gathered there just to watch her pass by. She knew they had heard the gossip. She knew they'd be expecting her to go. They boldly stood with babies on hip, hats on heads, aprons on, and she could see the disapproval in their eyes. ... and in the quiet of her mind, she could hear the cluck of their tongues. She straightened her hat, raised her chin a bit, and set her sight on the road. She drove past the women as if they weren't there.

She wouldn't be in town long. Just long enough to do the job she had come to do. Then she would head home .... to the farm. To her babies, and to the man she passionately loved. Eight hours, and she would be back home again. Her babies were safe, and her husband was working busily on the farm. He knew she was going, and he knew she'd be back. She always came back.

Some said she was a little "dizzy in the head", while others said she was crazy. She thought about the women that had watched her leave that morning, and she thought about the gossip she'd heard them say about her. She was a loner, and she didn't care. Business done, she was heading home.

The wind had picked up as she left the city, and an eerie darkness loomed off to the side. It just didn't look right. It was too black. A storm was coming she thought ... a bad storm. Would she beat it in that old car. The radio didn't work, and she was alone. An unusual fear gripped her as the rains started, and the car shook in the wind. She drove blindly through the rain. She felt alone in the storm. She felt small. She felt vulnerable. She couldn't see what was coming ... and she couldn't stop. There was no where to stop, and no where she'd be safe. She had to get home ... to her babies.

As the storm beared down ... she felt like it was singling her out, punishing her and making her pay as she raced a step ahead of it. Her heart was in her throat and she could feel her chest pound in fear. The old car violently shook, as limbs and street signs flew around the windows. She could hear the roar of the storm rise above her. She felt the tension in the air and heard the split of wood as it passed over her. She felt like she was fighting for her life, and all she wanted to do was safely get to her babies. She turned off the key, and braced herself as she ran through the downpour. She forced the door open and fell inside weeping. She was exhausted. She was safe .... and she was home.

Well, she wasn't exactly home ... but she was at daycare. ... and for once, she'd made it on time! She has always hated storms, and she hates to get her hair wet! .... and maybe the storm wasn't that bad, well maybe it was. .... and maybe she drove a 2005 Toyota instead. Maybe the radio did work, but maybe she was chatting on the cell phone. Maybe she was just on her way home from work, like she does every evening ... and maybe she's just crazy, and delusional. Maybe she needs medication ... or maybe she just likes to write good stories. Maybe someday, some one is going to kick her butt ... So, maybe you'd like to see a cute picture of her babies sitting all snuggled up in her bed this morning, because the electricity really was out, and they were cold. (maybe) ... and maybe she always gives them cute little valentine baggies with candy hearts, marshmallows and gummi hearts for breakfast.

Maybe you'll forgive her ... for she's "dizzy in the head" and a tad bit crazy you know!

She's not even signing this .... because she doesn't know who wrote it. She has memory problems, and she's old you know, and just a little tainted in the head. Just a tad bit. She's just not right somedays. .... BUT, she does have cute kids, and that's worth something, and she NEVER lays them down and forgets where she puts them. Never. She's not that old or frazzled in the head. Well, maybe. ... on a bad day.

~~~~~~~~~~

... and since she has so many lurkers ... if you're not mad at her, just "ring the bell" ... well, there's not really a bell, so just click the star below, and vote, and let her know you still love her! Heck, just vote twice. That will make her really happy, and she just might write another story. Lordy Be .... God help us all.

~~~~~~~~~~

One more tiny small little thing: no comments please with the word "nuts" "crazy" or "mental" or "psycho" in it ... or she just might write a story about you. ha~