THE WIND AT MIDNIGHT
There had been this fierce wind blowing,
All night long.
Whipping through the trees,
Rattling the doors,
Making the house go, “creek, creek!”
The dog was whimpering,
And the lights flickered.
Then, all of the sudden,
I looked around, out the windows.
No bushes swayed back and forth,
No sound of air whooshed through the leaves.
I looked up at the clock on the wall.
It was exactly midnight, to the second.
“oh, shit,” I gasped. “this might get weird.”