One Minute

Although the sun was bright and warm, the wind had a bit of a chill to it as it gusted, bellowed and howled through the space at the side of the complex and into the garden. Yesterday’s newspaper tore itself page by page from the round white metal table where it had been left momentarily, and up sheet by sheet into the air before graciously coming to rest in the middle of the outdoor pool. A couple of white plastic chairs slid along the decking, following the newspaper sheets, and slamming into the low wall that surrounds the pool, one with such force that one of the back legs snapped off. A metal gate clanked against a brick wall, almost but not quite in rhythm with the loud squeaking from its hinges.

Clouds quickly covered the sun, taking away both its brightness and its warmth. Sudden raindrops splattered on the wood and concrete decking, and created musical patterings as they danced on the water’s surface where it wasn’t covered in soggy newspaper. Lightning provided flashes of electric white bursts through the unexpected darkness, the rumbling of thunder providing the storm’s symphony.

How quickly things change. I’d only gone in for a glass of orange.