The day the funnel came in off shore, rain spattered the sidewalk along the beach. Earlier, my Hemingway's house visit along the fern laden hallways was interrupted by thunder growling warnings. Now a bolt blazing the purpled sky.

The day the funnel came in off shore, rain spattered the sidewalk along the beach. Earlier, my Hemingway's house visit along the fern laden hallways was interrupted by thunder growling warnings. Now a bolt blazing the purpled sky.The day the funnel came in off shore, rain spattered the sidewalk along the beach. Earlier, my Hemingway's house visit along the fern laden hallways was interrupted by thunder growling warnings. Now a bolt blazing the purpled sky.

The storm seemed a blessing for my financial problems. One flood and my mortgage bills would end.

Did I really want natural intervention?

I hurried on while the storm grew and threatened. Little time to reach the comparative safety of my home.

If life were only magic, with wind carrying me safely above clouds to a kiss by a stranger while a muscled man held the funnel away.

I entered my front door with wind scattering paperwork. I slammed the door with all my strength, rushing for my shower.

There I crouched down and sat crosslegged listening to the howls outside and surprisingly the gurgle of my stomach. How could I hunger, now? Wasn't death going to claim me? Could I bargain with the devil for a slice of cake or french dip sandwich?

I waited. There came silence.

When I looked out, wood boards were piled and pounded to kindling along the sidewalk next to my neighbors. Not a cloud in the sky. Not a drop of water fell.

I guess that meant I had to go to work. And thank you Mother Nature.