The Cold Wind

The wind was loud. It rattled the windows upstairs and down. It made a moaning sound that sometimes seemed to rise higher and louder, then fall away, but its presence inside the house was steady.

“Shell?” Monica whispered. She tapped on the closed door gently. There was no response from inside.

“Shell?” she said again, daring to let her voice rise above a whisper. “I’m coming in, okay?”

After a few moments, she came inside and softly closed the door again. It was late, well past bedtime. The room was dark. She made her way through the darkness, using her outstretched hand to locate the bed. With her bare foot, she stepped on the wood siding along the base of the bed and climbed up, then squirmed under the covers. She pulled the blankets up to her neck, then released a great sigh of air.

It was all good then, but then, no… No, it wasn’t. The angry voices from downstairs had followed her into Shelly’s room. Her parents were yelling in quick bursts of anger, only to be silent for a time, and then yelling at each other again, rising and falling, like the wind, but worse. Much worse.

Monica stretched a leg across the bed and sat up straight, frightened now. “Shelly!” she called much too loudly.

“Shush,” came a hissed whisper.

“What are you doing over there?”

No answer came back. Monica remained sitting upright, her heart beating faster as she stared into the darkness at the corner of the floor. Slowly, her night-vision came, and she vaguely saw a blanket, then a body crumpled beneath it.

“Shelly?” she said to the dark shape.

“I’m not here,” said Shelly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m riding an Arabian stallion along a beach...”

“Can I come?”

“No!”

“What color is it?”

“The ocean? It’s blue.”

“No, the horse?”

“It’s white—No. Jet black!”

“Shell?”

“Fine,” said Shelly, sounding like it wasn’t really fine at all. “But hold on tight!”

Monica climbed down from the bed. She made her way over to the corner where she again snuggled in under the blanket.

She didn’t stay there long.

Within moments, she was sitting behind her big sister on a great black horse, and the thundering sound of hooves at a dead run across hard sand was like music.


--389 Words--