DailyPrompt - 'Calm's End'
From 
dailyprompt ,
“There is a storm coming,” Luna called quietly across the great room of the house.
Dove looked up from her homework and lightly cocked her head to the side. “Gramma,” she said in that sort of voice that only a teenager who is wholly unaware of the limitations of their understanding can achieve, “the weatherman said we was due for heat heat and more heat. Dry heat. There ain’t no storm coming today.”
“Child,” she replied with a smile, “Not every storm is gonna be seen. And this one, this one I feel deep in my bones.”
“Are you sure it ain’t your arthritis acting up?” Dove replied, closing the math book, latching on to this ‘mother approved’ reprieve from algebra. ‘Momma always said to pay heed Grandmother Luna.’ She thought as she walked from the table to sit beside Luna’s rocking chair. “It’s hot as hell.”
“Mind your tongue,” Luna chastised her, lightly cracking a knitting needle across the top of her hand, “and I’m not talking about cold and rain. Ain’t no tornados or hurricanes comin’ here neither.”
“Oh,” Dove replied quietly, respectfully looking away rather than staring at Luna dubiously.
“Storm is kicking up… storm bigger and more dangerous than all that creation can throw at us.”
She looked back, suddenly curious. “What do you mean, Gramma?”
Luna put down her knitting, turning to offer Dove a small smile.
“No, really Gramma, what kind of storm isn’t a storm?”
“A man can be a storm. Or a woman for that matter. A cause. An idea,” she reached over to the side table and took a sip of sweet tea out of the Mickey Mouse travel mug that she seemed to always have with her. “This one is gonna be big.”
Dove shivered softly at the tone her grandmother was using. It wasn’t about whether she believed the words her grandmother said; it was the utter surety with which she said it.
“This town may not survive it.” She said quietly, her eyes off in the middle distance. There was a flash of lightning, then, and a peel of thunder. “Oh lordy,” she said softly, setting the mug down again, turning her eyes to Dove.
“Heat lightning?” Dove asked, all the youthful bravado gone from her voice, eyes wide with sudden terror.
“Heat lightning don’t make no sound child, storm’s even closer than I thought.” Grandmother Luna rose from her rocking chair on ancient legs, slowly moving towards the window. “Go get your mother. Have her call your Auntie. We have… working to do tonight.”
Prompt: 'hurricane'
Not quite a story, not sure what it is going to end up being, if anything at all.
dailyprompt ,
“There is a storm coming,” Luna called quietly across the great room of the house.
Dove looked up from her homework and lightly cocked her head to the side. “Gramma,” she said in that sort of voice that only a teenager who is wholly unaware of the limitations of their understanding can achieve, “the weatherman said we was due for heat heat and more heat. Dry heat. There ain’t no storm coming today.”
“Child,” she replied with a smile, “Not every storm is gonna be seen. And this one, this one I feel deep in my bones.”
“Are you sure it ain’t your arthritis acting up?” Dove replied, closing the math book, latching on to this ‘mother approved’ reprieve from algebra. ‘Momma always said to pay heed Grandmother Luna.’ She thought as she walked from the table to sit beside Luna’s rocking chair. “It’s hot as hell.”
“Mind your tongue,” Luna chastised her, lightly cracking a knitting needle across the top of her hand, “and I’m not talking about cold and rain. Ain’t no tornados or hurricanes comin’ here neither.”
“Oh,” Dove replied quietly, respectfully looking away rather than staring at Luna dubiously.
“Storm is kicking up… storm bigger and more dangerous than all that creation can throw at us.”
She looked back, suddenly curious. “What do you mean, Gramma?”
Luna put down her knitting, turning to offer Dove a small smile.
“No, really Gramma, what kind of storm isn’t a storm?”
“A man can be a storm. Or a woman for that matter. A cause. An idea,” she reached over to the side table and took a sip of sweet tea out of the Mickey Mouse travel mug that she seemed to always have with her. “This one is gonna be big.”
Dove shivered softly at the tone her grandmother was using. It wasn’t about whether she believed the words her grandmother said; it was the utter surety with which she said it.
“This town may not survive it.” She said quietly, her eyes off in the middle distance. There was a flash of lightning, then, and a peel of thunder. “Oh lordy,” she said softly, setting the mug down again, turning her eyes to Dove.
“Heat lightning?” Dove asked, all the youthful bravado gone from her voice, eyes wide with sudden terror.
“Heat lightning don’t make no sound child, storm’s even closer than I thought.” Grandmother Luna rose from her rocking chair on ancient legs, slowly moving towards the window. “Go get your mother. Have her call your Auntie. We have… working to do tonight.”
Prompt: 'hurricane'
Not quite a story, not sure what it is going to end up being, if anything at all.