The Storm


Through the rain, Godfrey could make out the colours of the sign, but not the actual words. The sign was yellow in colour, which Godfrey knew meant one of two people. Jack Stephens or George Fillers, both dairy farmers and both regulars at Mass. While Godfrey would not describe either men as friends, the sign offered him salvation and he gleefully turned up the farm track.

The farm track was little more then a slow flowing river at this point, and Godfrey could feel his car screaming as he forced his way up. It was a miracle that he did not get stuck half way up the path and slowly through the rain Godfrey could make out the shape of the farmhouse. While details were blurred the house was large, surrounded by the cattle pens of the farmers trade. The Tractor could be made out in the front and the lights were on inside the house. Godfrey for the first time in hours actually smiled, and it was then that his engine suddenly stopped.

Godfrey cursed loadly as he struggled to get the engine working, the engine sputtered and strained but didn't turn on. He could feel the car sink deeper into the mud and seemingly just to spit the Priest the rain suddenly got even harder and more crackle of thunder suddenly boomed from the south. Although the house wasn't particularly far the weather would make the trip on foot deeply unpleasant. Sighing deeply Godfrey grabbed his beige overcoat and tried to open the door, but the car had sunk deep enough that the door wouldn't budge.

Godfrey cursed before climbing into the back-seat and heading towards the boot of the car. Luckily the boot of the car was designed so that it was possible to open from the inside. Muttering a small prayer Godfrey opened the latch and prepared to enter the monsoon protected only by an old overcoat and his cheap leather shoes.

The Storm was bad inside his car, outside it was a nightmare. In a matter of seconds he was soaked to the skin, his socks froze to his feet as his shoes sunk deep into the mud and the howling wind nearly knocked Godfrey off his feet. With each step he thought he was going to lose either his footing or his shoes, and with each passing second he was getting colder and wetter. Before long his entire body felt numb, all bar his head which had flared into a whole new level of pain. As quickly as he could without slipping Godfrey made his way towards the house, his hands trying desperately to hold his hood up to provide some protection to his face.

It seemed to take several torturous hours, but Godfrey finally reached the house. The outside of the house was covered with a now overflowing drain pipe that provided some shelter. The curtains were drawn close, the light of the inside just peeping through the gap. Using the house as a support Godfrey made his way towards the door. The door was made of heavy oak, and had a large bronze knocker in some unrecognisable shape, Godfrey hardly cared for details and ignoring the knocker completely hammered upon the door.

No answer.

For several minutes Godfrey waited in the howling rain before trying again, once again there was no answer. Groaning and cursing under his breath Godfrey tried for a third time, this time hammering like a madman upon the strong oaken door. Panic started to rise within him as he realised that he was trapped outside in the worst storm he had ever seen, with a pounding headache, a broken down car and now a locked door between him and warmth. A sudden fear of his own mortality gripped him, if he stayed out in the storm he might catch a chill. The car was slowly sinking in the mud and he wasn't sure if he would make it back. In a panic Godfrey searched his immediate surroundings, checking with numbed hands under the usual places where one might leave the spare key. Under the mat, under the nearest pot plant and other ornaments, he searched everywhere with no luck. He was about to give in and head back into the car when he noticed something sticking out of the mud.

It was a worn and slightly rusted key, encased with mud. With a shout of heart felt hope Godfrey reached for the key, his numb and freezing hands fumbling as he tried the lock. With a shout of purest glee the key fitted perfectly within the lock and turned, and thankfully opened the door. With a very ungraceful stumble Godfrey rushed into the house and slammed the door behind him, panting slowly.

The End

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