Gone

"What have you found, Agent Clark?"  Erica jumped as the comlink on her shoulder squawked.  She held the flashlight out in front of her, so the camera in her helmet could record the scene.

"Just some moldy birthday cake, so far, Sarge."  A banner seemed to float in the air, wishing a happy birthday to Joshua.  A dark trail had seeped from the chocolate ice cream container sitting on the table, reminding her of congealed blood.   A lingering darkness seemed to cling to everything, and it creeped her out.  Her lungs felt infested with fear, as if whatever happened here was contagious. She wiped her palms on her sleeves, then moved her flashlight along the wall.  A pile of presents sat on the sideboard, their cheerful wrapping in contrast to the scene.

What happened here? Where did these people go?  Didn't they band together when they realized something terrible was happening? Didn't they try to escape?  No chairs overturned, nothing amiss. It was as if all at once, everyone simply vanished. All forty-seven of them, children and their parents, just gone.

A sparkle in the kitchen caught her eye.  A piece of dust, floating in the air, had caught the beam of the flashlight.  Erica looked more closely when another mote sparkled at her, then another.

"I think I've found something, Sarge."  Her hand reached out, touched one of the dust motes sparkling in the air.  It attached to her finger.  She stared in wonder as a second speck landed on her hand, then a third.  Her fear evaporated, and a warm feeling of peace fell over her. More sparkling dust motes landed, until her entire arm was covered in glitter.

"Get out of there, Clark! That's an order!"  Sarge screamed at her through the comlink as he and the crew watched Agent Clark's arm disintegrate, clothing and all.  Agent Clark was beyond responding by that time.  When the comlink went dead, Sarge turned to the group. 

"Burn it down. All of it."




This is what happens when I attempt home repairs, such as trying to reattach a vacuum hose. Sorry if it is a bit gruesome.   



The prompts for this week are ice cream and cake.





The prompt is the third definition of the word BAND.

Change in Weather?

today's optional prompt: a little change of weather


Texas is a land of extreme weather.  In this part of the world, we have hot, followed by melty hot and burst into flames hot.  It is hot here, meaning in the 90s or above, about 8 months out of the year.  Sunny, blue sky weather.  Yep.  

No rain.  No rain means that grass dies and the wind whips up dust clouds.  The dust, while not nearly as horrible as the Dust Bowl of  the early twentieth century, gets into everything. It's a dust mixed with pollens and other random items like bug parts, that swirls through the area.  Then, when the farmers in Mexico burn off their fields(and I can see no good reason to burn a field, when plowing it is just as effective), the smoke heads up here and we get that into the mix as well.  No wonder I have developed asthma since I moved here!

I would love a nice steady rain shower.  No thunder, no lightning, and especially no tornadoes.  Just a week or two of daily, two hour rain showers starting at around 1pm and ending before the rush hour traffic.  That would get rid of most of the dust that has permeated every nook and cranny of the outdoors, so I'd be able to breathe.  It would also refill all of the lakes and rivers and alleviate the pressure on the aquifer that we use for our water source.   

And it would sure cool us all off!

FIVE MINUTES. STOP.

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