The Thunder Rolls


1Likes
0Comments
211Views

1. The Story

 

Thunder Rolls

by

Jay. W

The night was cold, windy, like the angels themselves were angry. Thunder rolled off in the distance coming closer to a small, little town. It was 3:30 in the morning and there wasn’t anyone around, not a soul in sight. The small town looked like it was abandoned, a ghost town. It was a moonless night in the summer. The air was unesay with the upcoming storm approaching.

Raindrops hit his windshield as the storm was slowly moving in toward the town. He was heading back from a place where he never should have been. The rain hit harder as the thunder rolled over his car, approaching the small town he loved so much. Water was dripping from his eyes. His lips were quivering and his hands wouldn’t stay still on the steering wheel. He kept thinking about driving into a tree or flipping his car. He would do anything not to go back home and see how she's going to look at him.

In this ghost town, stood a small house that blended into the rest of the surrounding neighborhood. The house seemed a bit different this particular night. It had every light burning brightly. So bright that it could be seen across town. Inside the house was a woman in a faded flannel gown. She was pacing by the telephone. She asked God for a miracle and hoping her thoughts and suspicions weren't right. She prayed that it was the weather that was keeping him out so late, but as she slowly drifted to a daydream, the thunder rolled snapping her back to awareness.

The storm seemed to stay over the town, raining and making its loud thunderous roar every now and then. Lightning struck down near the small, lit house. It strangly represented the women's feelings. Her love was slowly going cold on this seemingly sleepless night. The storm blew on without control letting the thunder roll. The thunder rolls both in the town and in her heart.

She waited by the front window when he pulled into the drive. He slowly stopped just before the garage. His chin dropped low, almost to his chest as he turned the car off and pulled the key out. He slowly made his way to the front door. The door opened with her rushing out to embrace him. She held him tightly, thankful he was alive and made it home. Then the storm picked up. With the wind blowing and the rain falling, a strange new perfume blew over them.

Her heart skipped a beat at that moment, making her feel terrified but at the same time enraged. The thoughts she prayed wouldn’t happen, were brushing her face carried by the wind of the storm. She didn’t say a word or move from the embrace, for she knew why he was so late. The thunder rolled again with lightning following behind. She looked into his eyes as the lightning struck. He saw the lightning flash in her eyes, and at that moment, he knew that she knew. His heart skipped and his chest felt heavy, yet he showed no sign of distress. He grabbed his wife tighter and began walking her to the house door with the thunder rolling behind them.

They laid down beside each other in their comfy queen size bed. As she laid there, staring at the dresser drawer, she heard her husband snoring his familiar snore, indicating he was fast asleep. She slowly crawled out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. She had so many things going on in her head that she barely found the whisky bottle. On her fourth glass, she heard the bedroom door open with her half asleep husband standing in the doorway. Her thoughts of sadness and anger rushed back to her all at once as she sat the bottle on the table. Her husband walked up to her and hugged her. His clothes still stunk of the unfamiliar perfume. Tears fell down from her face and rage filled her heart.

She pushed him away and threw the glass at him, ordering him to leave! Her husband had a puzzled looked on his face, yet she had a stern look on hers. Tears fell no more, her chin was straight with confidence. “Get out,” came from her with a pointing of her hand toward the door. Then something snapped in her, and she started walking back to her bedroom. Her husband was trying to talk to her. He pleaded for her to talk to him. He started walking after her. She ran down the hallway to the bedroom door and locked it behind her. Her husband stopped at the door and begged for her for forgiveness. He placed his hands on the door and pounded on it, trying to get her attention. She yelled, “Leave this house and never come back.” She then walked to the dresser drawer where she was looking earlier.  As she pulled it open, the familiar white and black socks popped up. She placed her hand in the upper left corner of the drawer, under the socks, and grabbed a pistol. She looked at the lady in the mirror, which hung above the knee high dresser, the women who gave her life to this man for ten years. “He won't ever do this again,” she told herself as she racked the gun, loading it. Tonight would be the last time she would wonder where he’d been. The thunder rolled once again as she walked back toward the door with gun in her hand. All was quiet as she reached the door. She slowly opened the door revealing her husband with his jacket on, tying his last boot. Noticing his wife, he stood up and looked at her. Opening his arms, tears slowly dropped from his face. He said, “I love you.”

Three gunshots rang out and the husband fell to the ground. He laid motionless. The wife slowly lowered her arm holding the gun. She quietly whispered, “No, you don’t.”

Lightning struck one last time, striking part of the house, catching it on fire. The thunder rolled one last time covering one last gunshot that ended it all.

All was silent as the thunder rolled

 

And the thunder rolled...

Inspired By the song “When The Thunder Rolls” by Garth Brooks.

 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...