2.37 The Wind

Annoyingly blogger has decided to move my posts when I update them. This is today’s archive story, If you are looking for this weeks new stories please scroll down. 

Joanna lay in bed wondering if she’d ever make it till the morning or if she would perish along with the building she was in when it eventually succumbed to the wild wind that was rattling her windows and searching for any nook or cranny to whistle its way into. Living on the 13^th floor was fantastic when the weather was calm, she had views across the city in one direction and out to the mountains in the other but when the wind roared through the town or when lightening flashed around Joanna wished that she lived with her feet slightly closer to the ground instead of her head in the clouds.

Strange really because that was exactly the advice her geology teacher had given her in school as well as informing her she was meandering down the path towards mediocrity.

She closed her eyes and tried to work out what the wind was whipping up and crashing down causing the array of noises that were competing with the howling wind itself. She imagined bollards, dustbins, branches, road signs, black cats and stray dogs being battered and bruised by the incessant force.

She might have been imagining it but she was sure the old communist building was rocking gently back and forth in the gale. She cuddled up to Tigger, her lovely cat, who seemed capable of sleeping through the cacophony of nature’s orchestra. How could that daft cat hear the slightest sound of the fridge opening from 3 rooms away but be left unperturbed by the racket outside the window? Joanna finally felt the delicious warmth of sleep beginning to envelop her, her body felt light and her eyes heavy. But within seconds she was lying wide-awake again, her heart beating and her mind racing, was she still alive? Was the building still standing? What on earth had made the almighty crash that had ripped her from the very fingertips of sleep? Did she have the feeling she was falling? She reached out for a comforting stroke of the cat only to find she wasn't there. Instead she reached out for the light only to find her lamp wasn’t there either. To her relief her hand found her mobile phone, she shone the light around the room, In front of her she saw that the clatter was not from outside but closer to home. On the floor was her lamp and a daft cat sitting calmly next to it licking its paw. She looked at the clock on her phone, it read 2.37 am.