Diane R Freynik

The Rain

The earth was shaking again. In his pre-dawn stupor Ben fought to open his eyes against the heavy blanket of sleep that shrouded him. The dark room came into focus slowly, revealing nothing notable. The same familiar shapes as always were discernable in the darkness of his room. His hand automatically groped for the bedside table. He breathed a sigh of relief as the smooth surface of the lockets metal met his palm, cold in the chill of the winter air. He closed his fingers around it and brought it to his chest under the warmth of his woolen blankets.