Cindy (cindyanne1) wrote,
Cindy
cindyanne1

I ought to go to bed... but I just can't.

There's a storm coming.



Brian's in another county planting a field they forgot.  Yes, they forgot it.  Don't ask.  I don't understand how either.

It's too quiet in this house.

All the kids are in bed.  I don't know if they're asleep... but I'm not going to go trying to find out.

There's the lightning again.

Why is it so quiet?

The only sounds I hear are my fingers clicking across the keyboard... and the wind.

I love silence.  But I love peaceful silence.

For some reason, this is not peaceful.

If it was peace, I could go to bed.

I can't go to bed.

There's a storm coming.

It's too quiet in this house.

Brian is away... bringing diesel fuel and machinery and the Elements of earth, air, and water together into tiny round seeds... pushing them into the soil to form unnaturally straight rows... bending the very laws of Nature to his will.

I am sure it is loud where he is.

Loud with the sounds of engines and protesting soil.

It's too quiet here.

There's a storm coming.



 
Tags: musings, real life
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