Tornado

I haven’t visited Friday Fictioneers for a while…for longer than I can remember ever not visiting. Here is my effort. Many thanks to Rochelle.

Tornado

The car abandoned, we charge to the underpass where it’s safe.

“No!” Neil drags me farther to a manhole. I look from him to the steel, consider my various neuroses, and shake my head.

He yanks up the cover and gestures for me to go down.

I peer into darkness; the roaring winds like an oncoming locomotive, send me downwards.

He switches his cell to flashlight. I gasp air. He chuckles.

We’re safe. The animal roars above, a demon, aching for dessert.

He flicks his screen. “Make it with You” plays, a song he despises, but I love.

Comfort. Love.

 

end

Sascha Darlington

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