One Mississippi

Eleventh Hour Fiction

One Mississippi by Tiffany Greenfield

Home alone, she started counting with the blinding flash of light, “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi.”  She felt the electricity from head to toe and then felt the thunder course through her from the inside out.  She was staring out her upstairs bedroom window waiting for the next flash of light to make sure she was right.  The sound of the rain pounding on the steel roof of the century old farmhouse was the soundtrack of the night.   It took a second for her eyes to adjust as the lightening flashed.  As the glow hung in the air, her eyes scanned the area around the back field and barn.  She had been right, he was there.   His shadow gave him away as it was projected on the barn wall.  She knew it was him, because although he was now tall enough to be a man he still leaned against…

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