The exercise:
Going with the theme of the day, write about: the blackout.
Winter has decided to give us a proper visit, having camped out in the orchard and doing his best to blow the house down. It's currently -14, though with wind chill it's more like -25.
Thankfully it's only supposed to last a few days, as I'm already missing the more timid temperatures that have become the norm this winter.
Oh, hey, I promised duck (there are some geese in there too) pictures. Here you go:
Mine:
They sat in the darkened house, together yet apart, listening to the air raid sirens echoing up and down their street. Each replayed in their heads the argument the German pilots had so rudely interrupted.
She tried to control her breathing, afraid she might pass out only to wake to find him gone.
Don't be silly. He'd never leave like that.
He stared at the ceiling, as though he were searching the skies for enemy planes. His hands clenched and then relaxed, over and over again in futile fury.
When the sirens fell silent, their neighborhood emerging untouched, neither moved to turn on the lights. Eventually she cleared her throat, preparing to speak, but he was faster.
"I'm signing up, Mom. Dean says they're not checking birth certificates anymore, so they'll let me. I can't just sit here waiting to be blown to pieces anymore."
He got up and left the room, wanting to begin packing his things immediately. She sat for a while longer before finally whispering her lonely thought to the empty room.
