The chiming of the clock brings me back to the present. It's dark outside and there is lightning in the distance. It won't storm because we seem to have some sort of force field that makes the storms go around these days but it looks ominous and that's enough to drive the traffic in off the road.
Making change for a guest and I lose my count because he's talking to me about the weather they just encountered on the interstate. His wife chimes in about how ugly it was and all I can do is nod my head and smile but inside my stomach was churning. There are places that would give their eyeteeth for even a fraction of the rain they just came through and all they want to do is complain. I'm know everyone, including myself, is guilty of being ungrateful but today it's an exercise in tongue biting to not tell people to shut up.
Some people don't have a shelter from the rain, At least you were in your safe cozy car. Stop complaining so much. It's not becoming.
And with that, I am becoming my mother.
This is Just Write, a free-writing exercise in which you sit down with no writing agenda, no pushing for a theme. Watch the details of your stories ignite their own meaning from within.