small moment Stories Collection

the black blizzard

Cock-a doodle-DOO!" The red rooster announced. It meant it was morning. The creaking sounds of a wooden bed can be heard, as Zak, a 13 year old boy with little schooling makes his effort to get up and start the day. The first sound Zak made was very........ Dignified.
"Mmmmmmm..... Eggs..." Poor Zak lay in his bed, the rough surface of the mattress he lay in made Zak's skin itch. The roof of the wooden ceiling looked rough, too. But that was an observation Zak proved by experience. He was groggy, but Zak sat up anyway. His nose detected the scent of eggs cooking mixed with the dusty farm air he was used to. The scent of eggs paired up with the sizzling sound of eggs calling they were ready to be eaten. That thought in Zak's mind kept him going, even though he was obviously not a morning person.

After Zak got out of bed, he looked at his rusty, metal, battery powered alarm clock that was given to him by his mother when he was only 5 years old. Zak had only vague memories of his mom, who had died of dust pneumonia. After, he put on brown work pants and a white, dusty, shirt. Right then, the radio turned on, old 80's music blasting out of it. Poor Zak tried to dance, but he had two left feet do he was only successful in giving himself a brand-new bruise on his hip.

Zak stumbled out of his cement room. Suddenly, the smell of eggs ready to be eaten filled the air. Zac just could not wait. He swiftly sat down and started digging into the fried eggs and rice his dad cooked just for him.
Zak was a pig when in front of food. Despite his skinny body, he manages to swallow mounds of food at a time. He oftentimes Imagined he was a monster which can swallow cities at a time.
"You seem very hungry today." Zak's dad interrupted.
"Mmmm hmmm!" replied Zak,with his mouth still full.
While he was eating, he looked out of the window as he usually does. The sky seemed happy, though he and his dad both wanted it to cry. The sky crying made their crops happy. The farm was only rented. Soon they would be kicked out of their homes because of the drought.

In the late afternoon, after chores like: washing the dishes, dusting, sweeping, mopping, etc., Zak rested on their, again, wooden couch. He closed his eyes for a second, which felt really good. He shifted his pose so he could lie down on the couch. He was as tired as a baby who had just run a marathon. And he was sweating rivers, too. Zak remembered the time his mother was still alive. Everything was fine back then. They had money to actually buy things that make life easier. Now because of the drought,their crops were failing. They had to sell things that were valuable to just keep the farm. The drought was affecting even the water that run through the sink. Before the drought, water that ran through the sink was cool. Now the water was always warm or even hot.

It was a hot day. To relieve himself from the heat, he used his imagination. He imagined the cool blanket of the night covering the hot rays of the sun. He imagined himself warm and snuggly in the most comfortable blanket and bed in the whole world. He imagined his mom alive, cuddling him like the time when he was five. The warm fingers of his parents going through his black hair. The beautiful face of his mom saying "I love you, Zak,". He was in the middle of his daydream until he realized something. It was night, or so it seemed.

A pitch black wall was hurtling itself towards Zak's small farmhouse. It carried dirt and dust along the way, making it darker than before, if that was possible. A random thought went through Zak's mind.
"You seem very hungry today."
"Mmm hmmm!" That pitch black wall seemed very hungry today, too. Hares ran away from the pitch black wall. Some hares did not make it, and was sucked along with the black blizzard. It was like Zak's imagination in real life. Except this time instead of a monster, It was this pitch black wall that can swallow cities at a time. The door banged, and Zak's father came in the house, still sweating and tired.
"Get inside the bathroom!" It was an odd thing to say, but Zak obeyed. He rushed toward the bathroom, which was recently cleaned by him. Zak's father squeezed himself inside and in his hand were canned foods, just in case the dust storm lasts longer than they thought. And then they waited for the storm to end.

Day after day, month after month, Zak's life went on like that. Dust storms kept pelting their house with dirt, dust and stones.
But all that changed when a tractor came along....