All the Stars Have Disappeared

I had an interesting time with this writing prompt: All the Stars Have Disappeared


I hear a noise and go out on the porch to see what is happening. It’s simply a window shudder that’s come unhinged from the wind kicking up. Not more than thirty minutes before the night sky was clear, calm. Now all the stars have disappeared along with the crescent moon, covered by ominous clouds that rolled in from the West.

We get nights like this occasionally in the Arizona desert. I should be used to them after all these years but they make me feel uneasy. Seems something bad is going to happen though nothing ever does aside for some minor damage to the outside of the house. The wind sends shivers up my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I go back in the house to the kitchen, and take a sip of my drink. Something’s different about tonight. Though I think that too each time the storms roll in, but it’s always the same.

My wife comes downstairs in her robe, fresh out of the bath. She asks what the noise was. I tell her. She doesn’t like these nights either. She takes my drink and sips on it. “I wish it didn’t get like this,” she says, her eyes fearful.

“It’ll be okay,” I say. “We just have to ride out the storm.”



Copyright © Greg Halpin, 2011 All Rights Reserved