The Storm

Last night I was working on my pitch shots at the driving range when the wind began to pick up speed. I don’t get to practice golf as much now so I decided to stay. Soon many clouds rolled in and they had the same mean disposition as my fifth grade teacher--they burped and growled and were all colors of purple just like his face when he yelled at me (for no good reason). Still, I refused to leave the driving range. I watched as others fled to their cars. I reasoned they were amateurs, not suited for a game that required skill under pressure in any weather (cowards all of them). I turned up my Ipod—the new Chili Peppers loud in my ears. The wind blew my golf bag over but still I carried on. I swung and the ball landed on the practice green and rolled towards the hole. “Aha,” I cried (quite madly I might add). Not one to be left out during a storm lightening next made an appearance, leaving a jagged, momentary, crack in the sky. I swung again, raising my club in the air. There was more lightening…I awoke some time later smelling of burned hotdogs…