I Remember

Too Late

At eight p.m. in Atlanta, it was cloudy. At eight forty-three p.m. eastern daylight time, severe thunderstorms were located, moving east southeast at fifty miles per hour. While severe weather may not be imminent, all persons must remain alert. Do not go outside. . .

And indeed, it had been cloudy outside. But that had been nothing; Georgia weather was always changing, never sticking to the forecast. Always.

What had started as simple chinks every now and then upon the roof had evolved into an erratic pounding, and wind shook the very walls. All she could hear was thunder and wind and the static-y drone of the man's voice as he read off the deteriorating conditions of the area. Her area. Counties under warning have been expanded to include Banks County in Northeast Georgia, Cobb County in North Georgia, Forsythe County in North Georgia, Hall County in North Central Georgia. . .

The stop sign outside flew back and forth, ready to fly off and straight into the house. The world through the windows became white-hot, and she started at every clap of thunder. The lights flickered out of time with the sky. The air smelled too heavily of cheap candles from her futile attempts of lighting the house, and it combined with the tension charging the space around her to give her a migraine much larger than her usual ones, too strong for the pain pills her doctor had prescribed her.

Her family had all moved to the basement, but she sat alone in the living room. Fear rooted her to the spot, paralyzed her, and she had no choice but to hope the storm would pass soon- and that her house would still be standing in the aftermath.

But the rain wouldn't let up, how much water could the sky hold?

Why wasn't the lightning going away?

Was the wind picking up?

Her dog licked her leg, whimpering as he burrowed even closer to her. The outside dogs had started to howl; she had forgotten they were still out there, so exposed to this danger, but it was too late for them now. It was too late for all of them.

Too late. The house was creaking and moaning, trees beating on the walls. Too late. The world was going white. Too late. She closed her eyes, letting it all overtake her.

Too late.

At eight p.m. in Atlanta, it was cloudy. At eight forty-three p.m. eastern daylight time, severe thunderstorms were located, moving east southeast at fifty miles per hour. Severe weather is imminent. Do not go outside. For most persons, it is too late. It is too late. I repeat, do not go outside. It is too late.

We are out of time.