STRANDED

STRANDED          

          My moans and groans were smothered by those of a great wounded animal. Flickering open ,my eyes took in the gloom of an old house. My foggy brain registered the worn scarred steps beneath me. As my muscles shuddered and screamed in agony, so too did this house. With each crash and clap of a fierce thunderstorm, my shelter struggled to remain rooted.          

          Confusion mingled with the unmistakable smell of dust, dampness, and rot. My surroundings were not familiar. Usually, my crash pad was bright and noisy with friends. Often there was booze and music. My pounding headache didn't seem like a hangover; there was no nausea. Was this someone's idea of a joke? Should there be a shout of 'surprise' soon?          

         Struggling to my feet wasn't easy; my feet wobbled as if made of rubber. There was a decision to be made, up or down? Down probably led to a door. A door should be an exit. Surely there was a clue to my whereabouts outside.          

         Stumbling and sliding soon brought me to an immense door of solid wood. With a great deal of tugging, it opened onto a night of slashing rain. Twirling and dancing at my feet was a bright red broken umbrella. Shrugging, and painfully stooping, it was captured and held over my head. Several of the support arms were crumpled and the howling wind scrabbled to wrestle it from me. Fluttering from a wire was a piece of white paper; a store receipt. How odd. Was this a clue?          

         Obviously, one hand would have to reach for this tantalizing bit; both could no longer battle the storm for control of the buffeting umbrella. My left hand made a valiant swipe, and for a brief moment the bold-faced words, 'Rainy Day Sale', dangled before me. A greedy gust grabbed and won. Soaked and shivering, my only option was to return to the shelter of the battered house. Riding out the wild weather might prove enlightening. (330 words)