4 Minutes

It was a bright and sunny day. A few puffy, heavy clouds lingered above. The wind shifted and the black clouds blew in quickly. Within seconds, two in the afternoon looked like nine in the evening. Roof shingles blew over the building across the street and towards our porch, along with twigs, leaves, plastic bags, and everything you have ever seen on the side of the street. “Tink…Tink…Tink Tink…” The hail came as quick as the clouds. I was alone with my children. The hail became fierce. It sounded as if it insisted to break the glass, but it never did. I couldn’t see our porch 3 feet out of the back door. I decided to be prepared and grabbed my children and sat in the bath tub, praying the towns warning siren didn’t sound. My mom had just left and she was stuck on an over pass in the hail and howling wind. I couldn’t get my cell phone to call out to anyone, not even to check on her. That was the moment I felt truly alone. Isolated. Helpless. I turned on my iTunes, Adele to be exact, so my son could focus on something else besides my trembling hands and every whimpering breath I took in his ear. It stopped. 4 minutes. 4 minutes that changed the way I looked at my children. 4 minutes that flooded our living room. 4 minutes of prayer. 4 minutes of isolation. 4 minutes that felt like a lifetime. Ironically, I guess, is that as much as it terrifies me {weather}, it is such a beautiful, magical phenomenon that I long to be apart of some day.



One Comment on “4 Minutes

  1. I did enjoy the piece you wrote. I am awed by some of our Texas weather. I haven’t been terrified yet, but I can see it coming. Good stuff.

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