It went from a yellow alert to an amber alert to a red alert. 
 
Danger to life. A little too quickly. 
 
The fearless one is away to work. Healthcare. You don’t really have a choice. 
 
I'm sitting here and the wind is howling down the chimney. I hear a crash and a bash. Pulling back the curtain. 
 
Oh, it's just part of the roof. 
 
Part of the roof. 
 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
 
It's 8.15am. Check the app. Worst expected to hit between 11 and 3. 
 
Ah jeezo, it sounds like the chimney is coming down. 
 
Sitting down. Trying to work. 
 
Checking an email: "Can you help me with my bill?" 
 
Hold on big yin, I'm just trying to survive the morning. 
 
Sounds like the house is playing Jenga. Or Tetris. 
 
Start to lose my nerve and take my computer through to the front room. By the window. 
 
What could possibly go wrong? 
 
I take a look out the window. 
 
The bins have blown over. Should I run out and put bin bags back before they get blown over the neighbourhood? 
 
Standing at the door. 
 
Waiting for a lull. 
 
Watching clods of earth, branches, and a couple of unidentified flying objects roar by. 
 
Is this the stupidest thing I've ever done? 
 
"Hey dumbass in the tank." 
 
Ok, fuck it. I’ve had a good life. I’ve seen some things, done some things. I’ve raised a family. Lived, loved, and all that stuff. 
 
I’m having flashbacks to my whole life as the bin bags start to blow around the neighbourhood. 
 
It’s not that bad, I tell myself. Is that a cloud or a low flying sheep going by? 
 
I run out, a bit self-consciously, hoping no one sees me, hoping no one is filming me. 
 
What was that show the kids used to watch? 
 
"Stupid deaths, oh stupid deaths..." 
 
I take a clod of earth to the face as I start picking up the rubbish. The wee man comes to the door for a laugh. I’m scooping a half-eaten packet of Wotsits, bin bags, cans. 
 
I pick up the last bin bag and its contents fall through all over the garden. Brilliant. 
 
Howls of laughter from the front step. 
 
I find myself subconsciously trying to make myself smaller. 
 
We’d been to see Twister a few months before and I find myself wondering if there is a barn with a basement nearby.  
 
Or a flyover... drainage dip? Any shelter will do at this point 
 
I scoop everything up randomly, push the bin down on its side as another gust comes through and I'm nearly knocked off my feet. 
 
I run back over, sliding through the door. Wee man jumping out the way. 
 
He runs over to me as I'm leaning against the wall, catching my breath. He comes over, I’m thinking he's going to give me a high five, but he says: 
 
"You forgot to close the bin." 
 
Aw fuck. 
 
Later I'm pulling the curtains. I'm not going back out there. Out there doesn’t exist for now. 
 
Aftermath 
 
The next day after the storm clears. 
 
I took a walk through the woods. 
 
It looked like a T-Rex had appeared and rumbled through the woods, sending the trees flying and cutting a way through like a Godzilla through downtown Tokyo. 
 
Or at least some Jurassic Park CGI effects from the 90s..


(c) Paul Andrew Sneddon