It's like thunder and lightning, The way you love me is frightning.... -- Ladies of Lallybroch Literary Forum

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Date Posted: 17:20:23 07/24/10 Sat
Author:

debikm
Subject: It's like thunder and lightning, The way you love me is frightning....
In reply to: debikm 's message, "Prompts, suggestions, and fodder for thought" on 12:02:00 07/10/10 Sat

There's your earworm for today. My HW finally took form and I managed about 500 words. Not much to it, but there it is. Molly really doesn't like being alone.

For those of you who've just joined us, Molly owns a bar in a military town in Florida and has a bartender named Jimmy and a drive-by musician boyfriend named Gil. She lives above the bar, which used to be a garage.

*************
excerpt from Downtown Babylon, copyright Debi Matlack, 2009-2010, all rights reserved. Posted for sharing and crit purposes only; does not constitute publication.

----
Molly came awake, heart pounding, gasping for air. Broken dream images of wars, bombs and heavy artillery hung in her vision, a fading vision of Gil and Jimmy manning a foxhole confusing her. For several long seconds she didn’t know what woke her until the next flash of lightning lit her bedroom with its actinic glare. She couldn’t help the violent flinch at the almost instantaneous crash of thunder. That tore it; sleep was over for the night. Hurling herself from the bed, she dragged the blanket with her, wrapping herself in its protective folds as she went to the window. A new flash startled her as she reached for the curtain and the purple-white light blinded her. Another explosion of thunder rocked the building on the heels of the bolt.

Molly hated thunderstorms. So, why exactly did she insist on still living in the heart of the world’s lightning capitol? Snagging the curtain back, she saw the alley below delineated in meticulous detail by the harsh illumination, raindrops frozen in place by the flashbulb effect, heard the windowpane rattle with the force of the thunderclap. There was a soft whine by her hip and she laid her hand on Declan’s head without looking. The dog was more worried about her than he was of the storm. Not much fazed nearly two hundred pounds of Irish wolfhound.

Another harsh blaze and rattling report made her recoil from the window and the electricity died along with it.

“No, no, no!” All she could think of was the coolers below, full of inventory, getting warmer and warmer in the summer night. The small part of her mind that was rational reminded her that the beer and food was well insulated and could withstand days of power outages, as long as the doors were kept closed. If World War Three trapped her in the old brick building, she wouldn’t starve.

Why was Gil always absent during the summers? Why couldn’t the music festival season wait for a more reasonable time of year to draw him away to the dusty tents and fields half a continent away? Might as well be on the moon, for all the good it did her. There had been no word from him for weeks. Not unusual from him, but that didn’t mean that she hated every second of his irresponsible, inconsiderate silences. Just wait till he came back; the boy would be sporting multiple new orifices, right after she’d reassured herself he was real and whole and in her arms again.

Settling to the floor, Molly prepared to wait it out. It was almost funny, how much the storms scared her, but she felt obligated to watch, standing ineffective sentinel against the mindless tempest. It was as if she didn’t keep a sharp eye on the rain and lightning that a stray bolt would strike the building and it would be all her fault when it burned down, because she wasn’t watching. It was stupid, it was irrational, but it was the only thing she could do. Without Gil around, it was how she dealt with the fear.

Declan sighed and slid to the floor next to her, his spine pressing into her hip, head conveniently located at her knees so she could pet his ears. Molly leaned back against the dresser, her blanket tucked tight around her, keeping vigil against the savage squall.

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[> [> Yeah, I had Knock on Wood stuck in my head after that. I can't thank you enough. ;) >>>> --

Page, 18:18:04 07/25/10 Sun

And here's something odd. To get rid of the earworm, I rocked out to Led Zeppelin's Bring It On Home, right? But this morning I woke up with Donovan's Jennifer Juniper stuck in my head. I think I need to see a professional about this.

I so identify with Molly here! Her need to get up and stand watch during a storm is one I share with her. No, it doesn't do a bit of good, but I know why she needs to do it. I also loved that throught that flashed through her head about all the food in the freezers spoiling before common sense reasserted itself. And the bit about ripping Gil some new orifaces was priceless!

The descriptions of the storm itself were brilliant! So vivid I could almost see the lightning and hear the thunder. I especially liked the bit about the raindrops appearing to be frozen in place when the lightning flashed.

Lovely, lovely, lovely scene!

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[> [> [> I've got one worse... "Leaning On A Lamppost" Herman's Hermits. Why the hell THAT'S gotten stuck in my head, I dunno... --

debikm, 18:54:56 07/25/10 Sun

>And here's something odd. To get rid of the earworm,
>I rocked out to Led Zeppelin's Bring It On Home,
>right? But this morning I woke up with Donovan's
>Jennifer Juniper stuck in my head. I think I need to
>see a professional about this.

Can I claim disability with this plethora of funky earworms?
>
>I so identify with Molly here! Her need to get up and
>stand watch during a storm is one I share with her.
>No, it doesn't do a bit of good, but I know why she
>needs to do it. I also loved that throught that
>flashed through her head about all the food in the
>freezers spoiling before common sense reasserted
>itself. And the bit about ripping Gil some new
>orifaces was priceless!

Thanks! This was almost one of those 'sex in a storm' scenes, but Gil just wouldn't appear in that bed next to her. So I went with it. Maybe there's some sexiness to come. God knows this board needs a defibrillator...
>
>The descriptions of the storm itself were brilliant!
>So vivid I could almost see the lightning and hear the
>thunder. I especially liked the bit about the
>raindrops appearing to be frozen in place when the
>lightning flashed.
>
>Lovely, lovely, lovely scene!

Thank you again. Can you tell it's thunderstorm season here in Florida? My neck of the woods is indeed the lightning capitol of the world, so much so that UF has a lightning reasearch facility nearby. They fire little rockets with wires attached into the storm to induce the lightning to strike so they can study it. That is one job with UF that there is NO danger of me wanting it. *shudder*

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[> [> [> [> I like to watch the lightning, but like you I've no desire to get up close and personal with it. I wonder if the researchers do that 'Gator chomp thing when a big storm hits? *snerk* --

Page, 00:07:11 07/31/10 Sat

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[> [> [> [> [> LOL!!! I can just see them... --

debikm, 12:09:43 07/31/10 Sat

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>There's your earworm for today. My HW finally took >form and I managed about 500 words. Not much to it, >but there it is. Molly really doesn't like being alone. > >For those of you who've just joined us, Molly owns a >bar in a military town in Florida and has a bartender >named Jimmy and a drive-by musician boyfriend named >Gil. She lives above the bar, which used to be a >garage. > >************* >excerpt from <U>Downtown Babylon</U>, copyright Debi >Matlack, 2009-2010, all rights reserved. Posted for >sharing and crit purposes only; does not constitute >publication. > >---- >Molly came awake, heart pounding, gasping for air. >Broken dream images of wars, bombs and heavy artillery >hung in her vision, a fading vision of Gil and Jimmy >manning a foxhole confusing her. For several long >seconds she didn’t know what woke her until the next >flash of lightning lit her bedroom with its actinic >glare. She couldn’t help the violent flinch at the >almost instantaneous crash of thunder. That tore it; >sleep was over for the night. Hurling herself from the >bed, she dragged the blanket with her, wrapping >herself in its protective folds as she went to the >window. A new flash startled her as she reached for >the curtain and the purple-white light blinded her. >Another explosion of thunder rocked the building on >the heels of the bolt. > >Molly hated thunderstorms. So, why exactly did she >insist on still living in the heart of the world’s >lightning capitol? Snagging the curtain back, she saw >the alley below delineated in meticulous detail by the >harsh illumination, raindrops frozen in place by the >flashbulb effect, heard the windowpane rattle with the >force of the thunderclap. There was a soft whine by >her hip and she laid her hand on Declan’s head without >looking. The dog was more worried about her than he >was of the storm. Not much fazed nearly two hundred >pounds of Irish wolfhound. > >Another harsh blaze and rattling report made her >recoil from the window and the electricity died along >with it. > >“No, no, no!” All she could think of was the coolers >below, full of inventory, getting warmer and warmer in >the summer night. The small part of her mind that was >rational reminded her that the beer and food was well >insulated and could withstand days of power outages, >as long as the doors were kept closed. If World War >Three trapped her in the old brick building, she >wouldn’t starve. > >Why was Gil always absent during the summers? Why >couldn’t the music festival season wait for a more >reasonable time of year to draw him away to the dusty >tents and fields half a continent away? Might as well >be on the moon, for all the good it did her. There had >been no word from him for weeks. Not unusual from him, >but that didn’t mean that she hated every second of >his irresponsible, inconsiderate silences. Just wait >till he came back; the boy would be sporting multiple >new orifices, right after she’d reassured herself he >was real and whole and in her arms again. > >Settling to the floor, Molly prepared to wait it out. >It was almost funny, how much the storms scared her, >but she felt obligated to watch, standing ineffective >sentinel against the mindless tempest. It was as if >she didn’t keep a sharp eye on the rain and lightning >that a stray bolt would strike the building and it >would be all her fault when it burned down, because >she wasn’t watching. It was stupid, it was irrational, >but it was the only thing she could do. Without Gil >around, it was how she dealt with the fear. > >Declan sighed and slid to the floor next to her, his >spine pressing into her hip, head conveniently located >at her knees so she could pet his ears. Molly leaned >back against the dresser, her blanket tucked tight >around her, keeping vigil against the savage squall.
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