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As soon as he said it, a huge gust of wind ripped the roof off the clinic like it was a sardine can and the doctor, sheriff, and the deputy were sucked out in a violent cyclone. The wind tossed Dan into a corner and me under the table where I clung to the legs as the wind tried to pull me out. Then the wind stopped and an eerie silence took over.
“Dan?” I shouted. “Dan? Are you okay?”
I rushed to the corner where Dan lay on his side bleeding from a gash in his head.
“I’m not Dan, but I need your help,” he said. “The army wants to kill me because I invented a way to control the weather.”
You can read this if you wish although it consists of thoughts and fragments as I attempt to free write 750 words every day. Some of this may end up in a Story or a Conversation. Anyway, this is how one learn and shapes up The Craft. America is divided. The Hatfield vs. the McCoys. #BLM vs #BLM. Of course, it is nowhere near the biggest mix up as The Orange and the Green. At…