He Wasn’t Going to Give Up

The summer writer’s group sessions have begun and I couldn’t be happier. We’ve got some returning writer’s and some new ones. The creative energy is high and the writing enthusiasm is contagious. Here’s one of my pieces from this week:

By Genevieve Clovis

The air was heavy and moist. The harsh wind provided no relief as it hurled dirt and leaves driving all but the most determined of people indoors. Arvid squinted, but the grit still found ways in making his eyes water and sting.

He walked down the street leaning far into the wind and counting himself lucky to have that bit of extra weight he was so often teased about. He crossed before the lights and headed into the park as the first fat drop from the heavy black clouds landed on his shoulder.

He shouted her name into the twilight gloom. In response, a crack of lightening split the sky and the roar of thunder was so loud and close he felt it rattle in his chest. In that same instant the rain fell, not in drops here and there but all at once. He was soaked through between blinks, but he wasn’t going to give up. She was out here somewhere. All alone, and while he knew she had lived on the streets long enough to not be scared he was scared for her.

“Tsav!” he yelled again but he couldn’t even hear his own voice over the pouring of rain.

This was the last hide out of hers he knew about. His last hope of finding her. His eyes searched frantically relying on the lightening. His mouth hung open, gasping for breath in the downpour, and suddenly he wondered if she knew how to swim.