Calm After The Storm

A wind storm swept through the trailer park. Trash left on the ground. Pop cans, beer bottles, candy wrappers, used diapers lined the streets. Couple of banana peels too. Dogs sniffed through the garbage. Swings in the park swung slightly.

The old man kept looking out his windows at the wreckage left behind. Tool sheds dented in and potted plants knocked over. He noticed the sun coming up in the east over town. He wondered if there was any damage in the city. Trailer parks always seem to get the worst of it. That’d always been his experience.

He got in the old Dodge Dart and drove towards downtown on 30. Billboards were torn, trash cans in the streets, a decapitated deer on the side of the road. Some light poles knocked over. Half the town was lit while the other was in the dark.

Driving into town he saw where Walmart still stood in all it’s glory. The Lowes next to it was open as well. Mexicans were lined up in front of the store waiting to be picked for work. Boards and panels were piled into backs of trucks. It was 5:30 in the morning. Night time must’ve reeked havoc on the town, he thought. Too many people up at this hour, he whispered. Ain’t normal.

On Main Street windows in shops had holes in them. Some were blown out completely. The traffic light swung from wires; blank in their stare. He stopped by a cop and asked, Was there a tornado last night? The policeman said not quite. But, real heavy winds. Must’ve slept right through it, the old man said. Had to.

At the gas station the coffee was cold. The old man settled for a Pepsi instead. Walked outside and smelled the morning air. There was a peace about him. There was a peace. Always a calm after the storm.

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