A Night Storm in a Quiet Place

There was furious storm in the night.

I could hear trees bending this way and that as the darting wind changed direction.

Then the storm quieted and there was a drenching rain.

Sure enough, trees were down on the road to the retirement home. I had to wait while one tree was cleared.

Harriet was sad today.

“Why must it take so long to die?, she said.

She looked at the clock. I asked her what the time was.

That’s when I realised she could not tell the time any more.

“I’ve brought you some chocolate,” I said.

“Ah, chocolate”, and her face brightened.

She even made a joke then. “You’re a busy person,” she said. “I’m not a busy person.”

It was no Hurricane Sandy, just a pocket of turbulence in a quiet place.

But one elderly man died in a neighbouring village when his car was lodged under a low bridge as a river broke its banks.

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