The clouds hang low, and some move fast, west to east, while others roll and boil turning and swirling each other. The winds are
gusting upwards, about forty miles an hour now, as trees start losing branches. Leaves, dust,and various pieces of trash being hurled
from here to there.
And here, David and I are; we're stuck, tied up back to back, our mouths sealed in tape, wrapped five times around our heads keeping
bandannas within. We're in a cemetary, upon a hilltop. We're both wearing these sport shorts which have shorter legs than most styles
and have heavy elastic waists. If you put your hands to your sides and grab your legs, thats where ours are tied. Our ankles,and knees,
tied rope wound three or four times around then three times in between. Next, we were stood back to back, where rope was looped
around our bound wrists, and around our elbows, drawing them together. More drew our waists together, and was added around our
other wrists and elbows drawing those together. Even our upper chests were drawn close when our elbows had been drawn.
You might say, we were mummified in rope from our shoulders to our elbows, literally wrapped and drawn strand by strand, each
strand placed and drawn each time. Other rope drew us together tighter about six inches above the knees, and again at our ankles.
Finished off, a rope behind our heads, between our shoulder blades, goes above us to a tree branch keeping us on our feet, nearly
on our tip toes. We have so little movement of any part of us possible. We're watching trees bending in the wind. We see sparks fly
from distant knocked out power lines. Trash is blowing everywhere. David and I even have to struggle to keep our footing.
Then the stinging marble size hail comes Talk about getting gnots on the head...ouch! Thankfully,that lasted barely fifteen seconds
before icey cold water stung against our skin soaking us instantly.
The rain seemed to give us some leeway with the ropes, as we were flexing some straining against them as wet as they were. This
encouragement kept us busey til well into the night struggling
From where we were, we could see flashing lights of emergency vehicles, we could see water flooding over three streets, houses,
the fire station and schools were flooded
The ground is squishy beneath our feet and footing tricky. The mud where we stood oozed up between our toes. Being on a hill, we
heard water running like a stream, There is a burial building behind us which looks to be able to hold as many as twelve to fourteen
family members
Crappes man! I'm thinking as I look seeing David's got his gag off. I have gotten some knots loose and am searching for what I freed.
The rope from our shoulders to elbows so neatly and snugly wrapped, now lays heaped at our feet, a jumbled mess.
All our straining and flexing loosened it to fall from us being wet as it got from our sweat and the rain.
The storm seems to be waning slowing losing its bite, like our struggle during our plight. Anything from here is just the aftermath.
