Written for FOWC with Fandango.
with the prompt word “earthquake”
and for Sue & Gerry’s Weekly Prompts
Weekend Challenge word ‘stop’.
It was April 2, 2024, a Tuesday. An ordinary day, lovely actually, except for the fact that my husband’s identical twin brother had died suddenly that morning, unexpectedly and cruelly snatched away. Our sister-in-law had gone across the street to talk to a neighbor; when she returned ten minutes later, Jim was sprawled on the bedroom floor, dead from a massive “coronary event”. It was just before noon.
This almost broke our sister-in-law who was still hemorrhaging from the OD death of her son in 2018 at age 30. First Bryan, now Jim. The family came together, barely hanging on while trying to hold each other up.
Bill and I had scheduled our routine stress tests six months before for that coming Friday, April 5, and we discussed at length whether we should postpone. After our sister-in-law assured us the wake would not take place until Friday evening, we decided to hold on to this shred of normal in our lives and keep the appointment.
We started on time, at 10:00 am …. me in one room, Bill in another. I remember the technician in my room was excitedly talking about her trip to California the next day. Suddenly, at 10:20 am, there was a strange, low rumble; the building and machines shook for a few seconds …. certainly troubling enough to put a stop to our tests and everything else going on at that moment. The building was quickly evacuated and after about twenty minutes, when the situation was under control and declared safe, we were all allowed back inside and the tests were completed.
What we all assumed was confirmed …. an earthquake reaching 4.8 on the Richter, a big deal for Southern Westchester in New York State.
That night at the funeral home, the family agreed it wasn’t an earthquake after all; it was Jim and his son Bryan bumping chests in heaven for the first time in six years.
NAR©2026
This is “Going to California” by Led Zeppelin
Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 