Moira

Moira

Huddled in a corner with blankets over his head, Gavin fell asleep to the sounds of torrential rain and howling winds. It was a pleasant surprise to wake and feel the calm of a sunny day. Tossing the blankets aside, he stood and gazed out the only unbroken window of his home. The citizens of Sunnyvale took pride in the beauty of their town. Now, broken homes and uprooted trees were everywhere. It would take week’s maybe months to put things back the way they were before the storm.

The deadly storm had lasted the three days his wife Rachel predicted. His wife always had a way of knowing what was going to happen. Gavin looked at the rocker next to the fireplace where his dying wife Rachel had sat quilting the month before. With uplifting words, she promised new life would spring forth from devastation. His life would change for the better.

Gavin pushed open the front door and stepped out into his yard. Everything was broken. How could anything spring forth from this? He picked up a piece of his roof and tossed it out of the way. It slammed into the broken chicken coup. An unexpected cry came from the rubble. Barely audible pitiful cries that grew louder as Gavin stepped toward the heap of wood and twisted metal. Gavin expected to find a wounded animal that he would be forced to put down. What he saw beneath the rubble caught him by surprise. She was so tiny, cold and looked half starved to death. A large bump protruded from her forehead and her left arm bent in a peculiar way. “Too stubborn to die?” he said as he carefully removed the rubble and picked up the broken infant. “You are far from home little one.”