The Rising Storm
by
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Rich, alert with worry, suddenly got up and walked toward the window. As he gazed out, he saw nothing but blackness. Rich turned around and began to head over towards the coffee table to grab a flashlight when, all of a sudden, breaking glass pounded ferociously into the living room’s delicate haven, spewing shattered shards in every direction. Snow and dirt, mixed by the brawny power of wind, crashed through the broken window, knocking over picture frames and sending vases tumbling to their deaths. Rich stood frozen in position, unsure from where the crash originated. Suddenly, in a blinding spray of glass, he was pummeled by an assailing pine branch. Thrown violently toward the ground, with his cry muddled by the sound of storm, Rich was slammed against the side of the couch. The impact of the fall caused his leg to twist around like the crack of a dry twig. Crisp sounds of breaking bones became audible. Something sharp had penetrated his lower calf, and from the intense shock of the injury, Rich soon blacked out. Meanwhile, Nancy covered her arms as the explosion rocked through the room. Then, in just a few seconds, the unstoppable winds of the storm began to reverberate powerfully into the room, blowing snow and ice all around. The winds’ howling moans sent chills down Nancy’s spine. Her heart raced with fear and shock. Nancy slowly lifted her head, as broken pieces of glasses fell from her hair. With her hand shaking, she felt around her arms and face, checking for major injuries. For a moment, as adrenaline pumped wildly through her body, Nancy didn’t even feel the stinging pain coming from her bandaged arm. Fortunately, she didn’t detect any new injuries aside from a few scrapes and cuts. She had been lucky. Nancy stood up, feeling the wind howling across her face. She noticed the thick, colossal tree trunk that had collapsed threw the north side of the house, only a few feet away from where she had been sitting on the couch. Thank goodness there were fewer windows on that side of the cabin, she thought. A break through those thick, glass skylights on the other side of the house certainly would have meant... she tried not to think about it. "Rich," Nancy called out into the icy air. The sound barely traveled beyond her body. "Rich!" she screamed out again. But only sounds of storm answered her. Sheer panic seized Nancy as she desperately tried to find Rich in the rubble. With her breaths visibly flowing outward with each exhale, Nancy got up and frantically looked over by the window. She climbed around a chair that had been toppled by the weight of the tree and looked around. Bits of snow and pine continued to blow around her, reducing visibility. Everywhere there were shattered crafts, books, and pictures. As Nancy crawled around the side of the couch, moving aside a fallen lamp, she suddenly saw Rich’s feet. One shoe was missing. As her eyes went up his pant legs, she noticed that blood had begun to dampen the torn fabric. Nancy gasped at the chilling fact that Rich’s body was motionless.
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About the Book
Rich and Nancy have much in common: they both have a deep faith, they are neighbors in the beautiful and vast Colorado mountains, and they both know they will never be friends. Despite their commonalties, Rich is gay, and Nancy does not accept homosexuality. One night, a ferocious blizzard and a terrible car accident bring them together. Stranded alone, with the storm raging all around them, Nancy and Rich are forced to confront their pasts and prejudices, uncovering important truths about their spirituality and humanity. Their lives will never be the same.
About the Author
Originally from Nebraska, Texas, and Colorado, among other places, Ken Anthony Seifert is a graduate of the University of Notre Dame and The George Washington University. Though The Rising Storm is Ken's first novel, he has been an avid writer for many years. His hundreds of letters to the editor and op-ed pieces have been published in such newspapers as USA Today, the Washington Post, the Denver Post, the Austin American-Statesman, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, the Omaha World-Herald, and the Richmond Times-Dispatch. Ken currently lives in the Washington, D.C. metro area with his partner and works for the Federal Government.