Thursday, January 26, 2012

Spiritual Thunderstorm

The frigid rain pelted my face as I ran. Lightning flashed around me causing me to hunch over, but I kept my pace. I stumbled, my knees submerged in a filled pothole. I groaned as I bounced back to my feet. My ankle stung, but I had to continue. I could not fail. I would not fail.

Thunder boomed and I saw my chance, a red beam of hope. My last chance. I waved my hands in the air and shouted toward the beam, “Wait!”

My heart dropped as red switched to green. I willed myself to run faster than I ever thought possible. The black sedan was beginning to lurch forward as I slammed my hands on the trunk. I could see the driver jump as she eyed the rear view mirror.

I bounced around to the passenger side door before she could make a run for it, swung the door open, and threw myself into the seat.

“What’s going on?” she screeched.

Ignoring her question I reached into the back seat, steam rising from my body. I grabbed the clear plastic bag and jiggled it in front of her. “I forgot my donut.”

My mother sighed and banged her head on the steering wheel. “Buckle up, I’ll take you back home.”

Another round of lightning flashed as I pulled the frosted pastry from its cellophane prison. I bit a huge chunk out of the donut and laid my head against the seat. Closing my eyes, I let the dough melt in my mouth, before looking into the storm and muttering, “Thank God.”