I have started a new story and it has no name at the moment. These are the first new words I have written (other than editing/polishing old stuff and back cover blurbs) in over a month. I have been under a lot of stress in the day job and have had zero inclination to write so I am very glad to have new words to share. The picture this month is one I really enjoyed working with. Check out the other stories here.
“That’s some wicked looking sky up there. I sure hope it doesn’t mean power outages. It’s a bit difficult to play an electric guitar with nothing to plug in to.” Paul Baker glanced out into the distance from the where he and his friend Amos stood watching storm clouds gather over the landscape.
“You can always skip those songs that need amps and electronics and play some older ones that use an acoustic guitar.” Amos sniffed the air. “Yep, that’s going to be what my grandma always called a gully-washer. I can smell the rain in those clouds and when I can scope it out from this distance, it’s really going to be a storm to remember.”
“The weather service didn’t mention rain at all today, much less some kind of supernatural phenomenon like you’re talking about.”
“You know you can’t count on the weathermen. They have no idea what they’re doing.”
“Don’t let your sister the meteorologist hear you say that. You could lose a limb.” Paul stretched his arm to reach out from under the overhang and rubbed his fingers together. “Feel the dampness in the air. I imagine the bottom is going to fall out in a few minutes.”
“You’re probably right. I guess we have to hope for the best and that it all blows over before we open tonight.”
“If it’s as bad as your old nose and grandma’s wisdom dictate, I think we should go ahead and take shelter in the basement. If you’re right, we could be down there for a while. Might be best to go ahead and make the announcement that I’ll be playing another day. No sense in endangering the public.”
“You’re that sure they’d come out to see you in the apocalypse?”
“They would come.” Paul grinned.