When the Winds Blow

all seems right till the storm hits

 

A touch of Deja vu swept over her, as Kit fussed with her work space. As an image of her mother flashed in her thoughts and recalled her mother doing the same in the kitchen from her childhood home.  

Her daily routine, began as always. Kit touched the 4 folders she worked from, checking the needs inside of them, needs awaiting her attention. Once they were glanced through, she put them back, in their place where they stayed. Till it was time to resolve each issue. She straightened her phone cord making it lay straight. She then angled her tape dispenser and stapler. They were angled just to the right of her, on her “U” shaped desk. The funny thing is they were angled for balance and practicability. A hard combination to find but then each item she allowed on her work space had to have both.

She shared her office with two other woman, the Plant Controller, and the Plant Accountant. Even though they had starchy titles they were warm and friendly. She enjoyed working with them. On this particular day she had the office all to herself. She had completed her morning ritual which was redundant because she had the same routine each night before she went home.    

The day was coming to a close. She had just hung up the phone when she noticed all the sounds the plant made. Sounds that were layered one upon another. First off there was the steady hum of water being piped through the facility, which would be our base line. All other sounds came from machinery which added depth and character.  Two large boilers sounded like a roar of a dam. Several automated machines that ran off of air compression, gave off a loud hissing sound, like a car lot of tires going flat. In the corner was a great piece of machinery that jazzed up this work place limerick.  It had a rhythmic repetition that said “Ka-ch-Ka-ch-...”  This was all balanced out with the rumble of an unbalanced washing machine in the faded distance.  While the percussion would be found in the sound of cans running on a conveyor.  

At times, noise was not her friend. She liked order and quiet but this had a since of order that helped her think. The facility also was layered with steam and fog. Steam was released above the broilers like an old fashion pressure cooker. The plant was built over a stream, the end result being a thick rolling fog.

She hadn't noticed that everyone had gone home for the day. Kit had two big deadlines and she would stop when they were put to bed and not a moment before hand.  

An alarm sensor sounded and though annoyed by the disturbance she left her work to investigate.  The spring shower had turned into a raging storm that had the blacked rain soaked sky wailing like a freight train.

She turned back to consider her options and frowned.  She did not trust the old facility in a tornado, and had seen firsthand what it could do to a body in the elements. She decided to ran for the northeast side of the ridge, where the Gard shack stood.

This was a gamble which seemed like the right choice, seeing how she preferred shooting from the hip. She let the pressurized door shut behind her and was already soaked to the bone. It was too late to reconsider, the door would not open under the gusts of wind. It was  half a mile to the guards building and the wind had already knocked her down twice.  It was a real beast of a blow,  that wanted her to stay down to just tap out but that was no option. She set her feet lowered her head and moved forward.

Lightning stroke in the distance and a tree uprooted crashing to the ground.   Somehow she ended up with a gash to her arm. It happened so quickly she couldn’t tell you how. Hail began striking the earth.  Fast and hard it pelted her.

The rain was blinding she wanted to hug a tree tight but did not trust her hand strength or the strength of the roots to the tree she eyed, so she pressed on. 

All of a sudden the rain stopped and the wind settled. “S**t!” she yelled and began to run full steam ahead. The storm was not over, she was standing in the center of it, the eye, if you will and oh how she ran.

She busted into the guard shack.

“Man have I been trying to get ahold of you.” The guard said almost hyperventilating.

“I just didn’t know, and my radio was dead. I was on a long-distance call, I just didn't know.”

The heavens opened and rain like she had never seen spewed down, the shack began to sway. No not sway, breathe. With each breath a rivet would burst. They quickly opened the storm door and recoiled from the storm.  

It was only a few minutes but it felt like forever. Once the wailing passed they opened the vaulted door to find a few stars overhead and nothing else. Not a car, a tree, nor building. They stood in silence and stared.

She walked the grounds a little bit. She seen the stapler she had just angled so carefully on her desk. She picked it up and she and the guard started walking to town.

Reviews

[charlie]

Your story conveyed a sense of realism.

Just a couple of things which stood out to me were those occasions where you misspelled "sense" for "since", and a few missed opportunities for punctuation - paragraph two, particularly.

But for what it's worth, Cherrie: I like your style of story.

[Cherrie]

Hello Charlie and thank you for the help. As a rule I type my story in one long moment. I do not always notice my mistakes. :)

[Jaydaut]

Nope. Doesn't work, it's confusing, the unidentified "she's" and "he's" had me constantly asking who the story was about.

"As images of her mother swept over her fussing over the kitchen." You've got incomplete sentences like this throughout the piece.

The heavens opened(,) and rain like she (who?) had never seen spewed down,(and) the shack began to sway. No not sway, breathe.(and) With each breath a rivet would burst. They(who?) quickly opened the vault door and recoiled from the storm.

[Cherrie]

I agree it needs a little fine tuning. I wanted it to flow from a normal everyday life to the storm that follows.