The storm had hit with an energy that even those familiar with the coastal town had never seen. It was storm Fredrick and it had hit in the middle of the night. No one was prepared and the meteorologists had not foreseen it.
The reporter, after being yelled at by her editor, had raced out to the beach to see the extent of the damage and of course, report it. Her photographer was all set up to shoot but froze completely. She snapped saying, “What ARE you waiting for?” Everyone was under pressure. His face was bleached white which made her turn to look where his camera was pointed. At first, she could not tell what he was so upset about. Then it hit her. There was n0 one in the town. Not a soul and not a sound.
“What kind of storm was this?”, they said in unison.
© Carol Campbell 2016
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