It’s a dark and stormy night.
Lovely. Wet and steamy warmth
enrobes me. Maybe because I’m sightless
(since birth), I don’t care about dark. Even
though also born deaf, I still feel vibrations intensely, maybe even more than
you because I have to rely on that sense more. I don’t think of myself as
handicapped in the least.
So, thunder is something I can experience. But I have no fear
of it. More so, with lightening, without
seeing it, I can sense its vibrations in the air and sometimes even the
tingling of electricity. Stimulating and
delightful for me. My only tremble is
one of enjoyment.
My true love is our earth, especially in and after a
storm. The wonderful smells of rich,
moist, and loamy soil just enrapture me. In the warmer seasons, the vaporous
tendrils rising up off surfaces, lush grasses, leaf layers, and especially the
fog are irresistible to me. You wouldn’t
believe the myriad of textures and smells of earth. The woody roots and bark, the minerality from
rocks and minerals, and the deliciousness of feeling warm mud next to your pink
soft skin. Ooooooo, nirvana. I recall
that famous Flanders stage piece: “Mud, mud, glorious mud, nothing quite like
it for cooling the blood.” It resonates through me like part of my being! Mud makes for the best spa regimen. You
should try it.
My physical challenges are more than offset by my social
life. Although I don’t really need
anyone to make my life complete, you might be surprised at how social and
active I am. It really doesn’t come from conceit saying this. My friends very commonly get together and
party hearty. In my particular circle we
love to play cards and feel the beat of a thumping background bass drum sets. Outdoor concerts are my favorite. Sometimes my
friends and I stay in and sometimes we go out. We love the nightlife, and will
gather and mingle at slightest provocation.
Actually, you’ll never find me lolling on a beach or taking
the sun at some exclusive resort. I burn
easily. Besides, the night is fuller of lusty adventure. If I do have one
shortcoming it’s that I’m somewhat a slut, and with all this mingling, find
myself often very often drawn to any curvaceous body. A saucy wiggle can send me all a-tingle. I’m admittedly not the monogamous sort. But, what the hell, I’m still young.
Not that I sleep all
day like some lazy oaf. I am very proud
of my body. I am shapely if I do say myself, and I work out long periods every
single day. I have a very muscular physique.
I pride myself on being sexy and attractive to both genders.
That brings me back to
our dark and stormy revel. Many of us were enjoying this night basking in the lush
warmth rising from the ground on this wet glorious summer night. All of a
sudden there came a trembling. Not thunder. Not music. Relentless, stronger and stronger it came.
This was something new. Something unrecognized.
Definitely not a good vibration.
Something loomed closer, mechanical and rude. Not a part of my life. What could it be? We
were permeated with puzzlement. There was no time for thought; there was just .
. . just a fast tumultuous, horrible action overtaking and inundating us. A russssh
parting the rain. In an instant we were trapped, helpless, as tires rolled over
us with a finality that ended all. No sounds, no feelings. No nothing. Now Death.
“The worms crawl
in,
the worms crawl
out,
the worms
play pinochle on your snout ...”*
“When cars
go rolling warm stormy nights
they often
end a worm’s delights.”**
-jerry wendt 2014 640 words
*Attributed
to British soldiers in the Crimean War
** addendum
by jerry wendt
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