Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Squall Line ❯ Squall Line ( Chapter 1 )

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Jocelyn stood by the picture window. It framed a great view of the town below, how it curled up the base of the mountain. Today, she was watching a squall line move up the hillside closer and closer to her house.

It was easy enough to follow. The line was marked with a white band of dust mixed with some rain inching its way up the hillside to her part of town. Above the dust, she could see lightning in the clouds, ground strikes on the mountain ridge to the east, but it was too far away to hear the thunder.

She held herself tensely, gripping a wooden rosary. Occasionally, she would slide her fingers over to the next bead, but with no apparent rhythm.

The trees on her property began to sway as the first cold breaths of the winds touched them.

“Where are you, Honey? Why haven’t you called yet?” she asked.

Whenever Jocelyn heard the wind rustling the spruces outside, it reminded her of Heidi. She remembered how in Heidi the sound of the pines over the grandfather’s house were a sound of home and comfort and safety.

But she found the sound frightening, reminding her of the tropical storms and tornadoes she had experienced as a child.

Suddenly, the house rattled with the roar of thunder.

“Carl, where are you?” she said.

The first heavy drops of rain began rattling against the window glass, and echo the roof. A spicy, almost gingery smell filled the air as the dust and damp mingled. She idly wondered why it never smelled like that back in Louisiana.

Gathering momentum, for a few minutes it rained hard with a heavy, dense sound, almost like hail.

The phone rang. She let it ring twice, almost afraid to pick it up.

Swallowing, she answered it. “Hello?”

“Hey honey,” said the warm male voice on the other end of the line. “Plane just got in. I’m waiting for my luggage.”

She gave an audible sigh of relief. “That is great, Sweetie. How was your flight?”

“Oh, it was a little bumpy coming in, but nothing bad. Looks like it’s raining in your direction.”

“Like cats and dogs. You better be careful driving from the airport.”

‘You know it. I know how crazy these people drive when it’s raining. Be home in maybe an hour.”

“I’ll get dinner on. Love you.”

“Love you too. See you in a little bit. Bye.”

Smiling, she put the rosary in her pocket, walked towards the kitchen. “Thank you,” she said.