familiar storm

“Thomas hide! Now!” The storm was here. “But mommie I’m scared.” Thomas glanced at his birthday cake. The 10 candles were still burning though the cake littered the dining room floor with the overturned table. “Go!” she screamed with terror and courage in her voice.

Thomas darted into the cellar, bolting the door behind him as she had taught him. He squeezed his hands against his ears, but could still hear glass shattering and muffled screams. Then silence.

Thomas unbolted the door. His mother lay crumpled on the kitchen floor, bloodied. “It’s alright Thomas. Daddy’s gone.” His storm had passed.

coming storm

photo credit: Kelly Sands