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Farmer

Farmer

By RumbleBee

In the distance, from the bottom of clouds boiling over in black, I could see that big ol' vortex slip down from the sky and make contact with the ground. Nearby debris kicked up almost immediately. Would have made for an interesting picture, I reckoned as lightning raced urgently along overhead. Yes, sir, them tornado junkies would’ve ate this here moment right up....

Minute or so later come the tiny drops of rain. I looked to the front yard and saw Elmer – he’d be my pet pig, sitting on his ample rump, watching as well. Seemed about concerned as I was. But I’d bet gross of chicken gizzards he’d be up the second those damn sirens began screaming out their warnings to take cover. Elmer was stupid, but not that dumb he didn’t know when to run and bury his fat head someplace safe.

Watching that sky continue to boil, I couldn’t help recall those late afternoons here in Travis County when me and my wife Savannah would sit out on the porch and rock, and watch these monster storms come rumbling through. Some happy times we was having, just the two of us. Strange to think about, but that evening she first took sick, we had us a thunderstorm for the record books. Might have been this one’s cousin by the looks. Held Savannah’s hand down in the basement as she stretched out on an old couch we kept down there. She’d been burning up – a slow burn, throughout the afternoon and into the evening. I told her, you know, baby don’t ya’ worry none. Ima take care of you. And she wasn’t ascared or nothing, just wasn’t feeling well, and all that pounding and crashing thunder wasn’t helping steady her raging headache neither. I remember that, like today, this was on a Friday. Think it was the last weekend in June as well. Yeah . . . my last weekend with her as it turned out. Monday she was gone. Took her in early Saturday morning, doctor says she needs emergency care right away, he wasn’t exactly sure what was going on inside her – a storm of her own as it turned out, but he says he’s calling for a lift to get her into the city. He was a good doctor, a calming, sensible and caring man. He got her to the city good and fine, only we lost her on Monday right around 4 a.m.

Been, fittingly, I suppose, roughly one year exact. And ya’ know, that twister roaring its way through my fields, chewing up my corn right now? Well, that big boy just gives me a steady reminder of how much I miss her.

Every day, I miss her.

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About The Author
RumbleBee
RumbleBee
About This Story
Audience:
12+
Posted:
21 Jan, 2018
Genre:
Psychological
Type:
Sad
Words:
452
Favorites:
0
Views:
214

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