Nothing remained except the pieces of shattered heart strewn about the lawn. The tornado had hit hard. The sky flashed with lightning, but no thunder, as the winds battered the house. Branches and pine cones banged off the windows making us jump. The sky darkened but was light, then the rain began to thunder upon the roof and everything went black.
We’d been huddled together on the couch watching the storm track on the television. We could feel the tension in one another, but didn’t speak it into existence. We moved closer as it gathered strength.
When the blackness lifted, I was by myself. What had hit me, I couldn’t say, but Kay was gone. I searched through the wreckage of the house, wandered dazed through each room from attic to basement before stumbling outside to search the yard.
There wasn’t a trace of her amongst the ravages left by the storm.
In a panic I went back into the house. I went up to the bedroom, her things were all in their closets and drawers. Her photos had tipped, but were still on the nightstand. I called her name and ran out to the garage.
Her car was in its spot. I ran back into the house. Her keys were on the hook by the door. Her purse hung there too. Her shoes rested below.
I went back downstairs to check the basement, wondering if I’d missed her, if she’d gone down there after I’d lost consciousness. I checked every corner. She was nowhere. I screamed her name with every ounce of strength left in me.
So powerful was my anguish, I didn’t recognize the sound leaving my body. It was the sound of an animal in pain. I screamed again and passed out.
I came to shivering on the concrete slab of the basement floor. I heaved myself up and climbed the basement stairs. I threw myself onto the couch and stared at the screen on the mantle. Kay sat to the right of the screen. Her final resting place a subtle, deep navy that didn’t stand out.
My heart shattered again as the tornado struck again.
