I walked through the field and got more comfortable in my chair. The wind was high, it flew through the grains as I blew on my tea. It was perfect. My socked feet were warm under the blanket and I stumbled on the dirt path. Nothing hurt. The view was just what I needed, peaceful and well known but still capable of astonishing and inspiring me to take one more step, to take another look, to wonder. A deep breath filled me with the scent of tea, crisp air and flowers. I couldn’t see them. Tea fogged my glasses over, the blooms stayed hidden closer to the earth. I reached down to look for them and picked up a blanket, and blue filled my vision. It was warm and comfortable enough that I fell asleep.
Over the field clouds were darkening the sky. It was time to move along. I gathered a few flowers for company, got back on the path and started walking again. Soon the wind picked up. It was getting colder. The clouds were getting darker. My clothes and hand were wet and smelled of tea. The rain started falling. There was a forest nearby, shadowed and dry and welcoming, and I ran there, with heavy droplets on my back, flowers clenched in my fist and suddenly slippery ground beneath my feet. I stumbled, hurt my ankle. Thunder covered up my cry of pain as I hurried, limping towards the tree-covered hill. I fell again when lightning flashed and illuminated a house in a clearing. It was so close. I crashed through the bushes drenched, scratched and limping, but the house was right there before me. I stumbled to safety as the storm raged above me. I battered at the door but the thunder was louder so I tried to enter. The doors were closed and didn’t budge. My calls for help went unanswered and I needed to hide. I gathered my strength and dashed towards a flimsy wooden shed.
I woke up well rested, despite sleeping in the chair. The blanket was still snug around me but the tea must have spilt when I nodded off because it was a bit damp. I got up to clean up and make some tea. From the windows, I could see broken branches and drenched earth, signs of another storm I slept through. There even was a charred stump near the shed. I grabbed my mug and went to check for damage, picking up the crushed flowers from my doorstep on the way. The wind must have blown them here from the fields. I hope it didn’t damage the roof again.