Tag Archives: Lightning

Chapter 40: Wind


— I know what makes the wind. Trees!–

The big wind came in the night.  I awoke suddenly to hear the chicken coop’s sheets of corrugated metal roofing flapping and grinding as if under torture, while asphalt shingles beat on the roof over my head with the steady staccato of automatic weapons fire.  It felt like an earthquake, not mere air, shook my bed even as it shook the house.  Violent gusts of wind flung buckets of rain against my bedroom windows.  The house shuddered as each new gale struck, lashing it with rain.  Sleep was impossible. Continue reading

Chapter 4: Desert Lighthouse


–Only small people seek to make other people feel small.–

Our first night in the country house, the children all slept in mom’s and dad’s room.  We offered this arrangement until they felt comfortable sleeping in their own rooms.  One night several weeks after moving to her own room, Erin (5) couldn’t sleep.

“Daddy,” Erin called in a loud whisper.

“What?” I moaned groggily after a moment.

“The lightning is keeping me awake.”

“What lightning?” I yawned.  “I don’t hear any lightning.”

“No—look—it’s flashing right now, without thunder or rain,” she persisted.

I pushed myself up onto an elbow with a groan. Continue reading