If you stop driving, they'll crush you - A Cyclone Bomb

My Creative Writing Group, led by Eva B Priestly, meets every Weds. from 1 until 3 pm. A passionate woman who loves hearing everyone read their stories, she showed us some of her Amazon-published works. Amazon, tho, makes terrible mistakes, but she lets them be, rather than change them and make them worse.

As usual I was doing loads of things before I started my story. Did I know what I was going to do? Be quick about it, I reminded myself. I did not wanna be late.

The title was MY SECRET HIDING PLACE. It wasn’t bad. I checked it over three times and printed it out.

Remember I just got a new printer from Willow Grove Staples and am just learning to use it.

It’s now 8:08 pm and the wind is howling. Scott left for work in the pouring rain. I told him to drive and leave his car in the parking lot, but he didn’t want to leave it there. Then take mine, I said. I don’t mind.

The group liked my piece, though I didn’t write it in present tense the way I was supposed to. Example: I am now listening to the howling wind as if I am in a Peruvian jungle.

Oh no! I better get my candle going as I just heard a gulp-like sound that may indicate a generator will blow.

I was terribly worried about finding my way home. Last week I got lost.

Carolyn, who sat next to me, said to follow her and she’d lead me out to the right street.

By now the rain was absolutely pouring. I gave myself commands: don’t use your intermittent wipers, keep them all the way on. Soon it was Put them on as fast as they will go.

With my left arm, I wiped off the fogged-up window. And set up the front defogger which was useless.

And that Carolyn! She zoomed ahead like a Nascar race driver.

I was on my own. Was I going the right way?

Chickie and Pete’s was on the right. I pulled in and asked which way to go. I had seen a sign for Horsham and thought I was going the right way. They confirmed it, telling me to go right, which I did.

Every part of my body was soaked from my head, to my Indian-style top I bought at The Sweater Mill in Hatboro.

My wipers were going as fast as they could, all my windows were steaming up, I couldn’t see a goddamn thing, but I could not stop driving. Let them all pass me, I thought, as I rode on through the waters, waters that people can drown in, or if, God forbid, my car stalls, someone can crash into me from behind.

My thoughts were nil. Keep on going, do not stop, keep on going. I was wearing my driving glasses which already need a new prescription. I had to figure out how to get into the correct lane in order to get home. I stuck my head out the window and saw I could change lanes.

Then I changed again and made a right turn up a steep hill and made a left by the hamburger joint, it has a name, but can’t think of it.

Almost home now, with a vehicle right behind me, I bounced in the water till I got to Davisville Road – my home my home – then to Greyhorse and finally Cowbell.

Got out of the car and changed into warm clothes.

PS - Scott just told me the name of the storm is called a cyclone-bomb, from Virginia up to the Northeast. This is a rapidly developing storm when the barometer drops 24 millibars in 24 hours. The temperature also drops.