Thoughts on life, love and faith by Plasticmind.

The rain continued well into the night, and I laid in bed and watched it spatter against the window in smeared orange until the solitary streetlight shut off and left me with gray distorted shapes. Slowly the light grew brighter again and with barely audible click shut off again. I counted this cycle thirty one times and on the thirty second click the phone rang in the other room and made me jump.

Any time the phone rang this late, there was trouble. Last time Lorraine called for dad because her stepfather was drunk and had thrown one of her patio chairs through the parlor window. Dad had brought his gun, but didn't need it.

I strained to hear what was being said. I heard mom shout something like she was crying; then I heard dad's voice briefly. Something about an accident, about Jack's wife, about the rain, a telephone pole. "David, I need you to take me to the emergency room. Mom's in no condition to drive." I hung up numb, the light clicked off, and I was left alone in darkness to imagine the worst.