Sunlight poured through the dusty window
sending ghostlike shadows onto the floor. A gentle breeze sent soft curtains
swaying hypnotically back and forth. Somewhere outside, the mournful sounds of
cicadas drifted across the morning air. A young woman lay naked on the bed, the
sheets pulled back and half-lying on the floor. Beads of sweat trickled across
her moist body spilling over her side and disappearing into the already soaked
bed.
It
was the second year of a drought that had turned the once lush and fertile
farmlands of that part of the country into a barren wasteland. Clouds of dust
swirled across the vast fields of bull thistle and ragweed. Deep fissures
snaked, aimlessly, across the concrete-like earth giving it an eerie, almost
unearthly appearance.
Rusted
springs screeched as the young woman swung her legs around and sat on the edge
of the bed. It had been a long night, a long restless night. She couldn’t
remember the last time she had slept the entire night. She ran her fingers
through her long blond hair. It was soaked with sweat but felt good in the soft
breeze from the open window.
She
got to her feet and walked slowly over to the window. The breeze felt good on
her bare stomach. She lifted the window as far as it would go. The warm morning
air cooled as it caressed her sweaty body. She arched her back and stretched
waking her tired muscles to another day.
Jessie
peered out the window, across the barren front lawn to the dirt road that ran
in front of their farm. She smiled. An older pick up truck was stopped in the
road, its motor idling as if it were ready to leap forward at a moment’s
notice. More than likely it was teenage boys. Wasn’t the first time. Seemed
like they were always out there snooping around, hoping to see something. Good
thing for them Frank didn’t see them. He’d surely take a shotgun after them.
She turned slowly around to give them the full view, then disappeared from
sight. Tires spun sending gravel flying in the air.
The
cold shower felt good. It seemed to refresh, almost nourish her. She turned
slowly under the showerhead letting the cold water splash over her body until
goose bumps appeared. She stepped out of the shower, and, without drying
herself with a towel, slipped on a pair of frayed denim shorts and a man’s tee
shirt. She walked down the hallway to the kitchen leaving wet footprints
behind.
