At 12 P.M. on Sunday afternoon, Caroline sat by the window waiting for the brown folded package to arrive at her door. Listlessly she starred onto the street as the winds branches hit hard on the tops of cars outside.

She signed; unamused, the phone hadn't rung all day. Caroline looked forward to a long evening of smoke and water. Sometimes the street had this distinct air about it that seemed as though it would blow the mailman right around the corner. The storm was impatient. If only it were more like Caroline, polite, cautious and resigned. The shutters sent chills down her spine as they banged against the trim of the windows. Outside, the wind was twisting into a cyclone of dust, debris and fallen leaves.

..to be continued