It seems that Hurricane Irma is determined to interfere with my writing. Every time I sit down to work on another masterpiece of literature, a power transformer blows up or a tree falls on someone’s house. Okay, I guess those are bad examples but damn, you know what I mean.
For those of you just tuning in, my name is Jack, writer, father, husband, lover, veteran and cop. While it here waiting for the next call for service I thought I would say a few things to my fans. Maybe continue the story I started yesterday.
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Smokey seemed very calm considering that he was floating in the sky towards a glowing purple ball of haze. Cowboy was not doing quite as well, he was on the verge of panic, his breathing was hard and fast. His heart raced and pounded in his chest. He tried to lift his hands but was unable to move anything but his head. The purple haze looked like one of those balls with electricity in them that follow your fingers when you touch the sides. Cowboy thought his heart was going to burst from his chest as he and Smokey approached the edge of the ball. He expected to be electrocuted at any moment, a thought crossed his mind.
“Is this what happened Heather? That poor girl.”
As he passed through the edge of the glowing purple haze he expected the worst, a long excruciating death by electrocution. He closed his eyes and prayed.
Captain Jack's words of wisdom. 