Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
By the time I got there, my hair was damp, but I didn’t mind. It was a good way to rinse the dust away.
When I was finally tucked inside my tent, I pulled the book out again to make sure it hadn’t gotten bent or damp. A crack of lightning and then booming thunder startled me. It sounded so close. The book fell from my fingers, and I carefully unzipped the flap to check my surroundings.
The sky had turned a dark gray, the air thick with humidity, and I heard another rumble of thunder in the distance. I counted the beats like Mom had taught me to calculate the miles between me and the storm. Turned out, it was pretty close. I could’ve easily gotten stranded somewhere.
Just as I had that thought, the clouds decided it was time to wring out all the water they had collected, and the storm intensified. It seemed I was solo on this block, likely because the others had taken shelter elsewhere. Maybe I should’ve as well.
But I also liked being in my cocoon as the torrential rain pelted the nylon material, making the color a muted mustard. Storms always made me feel like the world had stopped spinning, giving me a reprieve from my worries for a little while.
I lay down and listened to the water hammering the makeshift walls. It was steady and didn’t let up for the better part of an hour. So much for the forecast being accurate. That was when I felt a drop of water hit my cheek, followed by another and another. A corner of the tent was leaking, and my blankets were getting wet. Shit. Maybe I should’ve thought this through better. But it was no use now. I’d be able to dry them as soon as the sun came out again. It wasn’t like I hadn’t slept in damp surroundings before.
I sat up and felt around the seams of the tent. Not only was the roof leaking, but the ground surface was getting saturated. I was in for a long night if this rain continued.
When I heard the sound of a dog barking in the distance, I grew still to listen, immediately feeling sorry for any animal out in the elements. If he came close, I might let him inside my tent until the storm passed.
A moment later there was scratching outside my tent, along with whining, so I figured the dog was desperate. I quickly scooted forward to unzip the tent, only to find a very drenched Irish setter.
“What are you doing here?” Oscar was still attached to his leash, so he must’ve gotten separated from Foster. I patted the blanket. “Come on, boy.”
As soon as he was inside the tent, he pounced, licking my face and getting me wetter than I already was. Still, I couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, calm down. No doubt Foster will be looking for you. I’d take you to him, but I have no idea where you live.” Foster was probably desperate to find Oscar and scared for him in this storm.
But Oscar wouldn’t relax inside the tent, pacing and whining. Was he scared too? Had something happened? Maybe he wanted me to follow him.
I lifted onto my knees, considering letting him lead me, when I heard someone yell, “Oscar!”
8
FOSTER
My depression had left me exhausted today, and as soon as I made it through a late day of work, I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. After I got home and fed Oscar, I’d fallen asleep on the couch.
The only reason I had roused at all was the crack of lightning through my window. I didn’t even know it was raining. That was when I heard Oscar whining by the door.
“What’s wrong? Do you need to do your business?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Ugh, great timing.”
I was still groggy from my nap when we got outside, which was probably why Oscar’s leash slipped from my fingers when he began tugging. Before I knew what was happening, he was gone.
“Oscar!” Umbrella in hand, I jogged against the gusty wind in an attempt to catch up to him. The streets were eerily quiet except for the sound of pattering rain.
“Oscar!” I called again, rounding the corner toward the coffee shop.
“He’s here!” a voice yelled back, and that was when I spotted the yellow tent. What in the hell was Lachlan doing out in this weather? I’d expected him to seek shelter elsewhere, but maybe he couldn’t find any place to go.
It was hard to navigate the sidewalks as it was, the puddles quickly turning to streams. My sneakers were drenched, my socks sopping wet. Even my umbrella was having trouble staying upright with the gusts whipping around the buildings, creating a wind tunnel effect.
When Lachlan stuck his head out of the tent to wave me down, he seemed a little shaken, either from Oscar seeking him out or the weather conditions that were getting more dangerous by the minute.