An Exuse?

You know how writers are supposedly always looking for reason not to write. Well... I was sitting at my computer typing away on the rewrite of MIXED KNOTS when the earthquake hit. At first it was such a subtle tug of my chair I thought it was my imagination, but then there was a harder tug and the wind chimes that hand on a nearby lamp began to tinkle and it seemed to be getting stronger. There was no question of what it was anymore.

My computer sits in the corner away from the door in the only room that was trashed in the 94 earthquake. The bookcases that sit behind me went over and everything fell on the floor. Even after I’d cleared up the mess it took me a long time to go back in the room, worried that if there was another earthquake I’d be trapped in there.

I got up and vacated the room going outside into my yard. Of course I had my phone with. The whole point of a smart phone is getting everything instantly, right? I went to news stations and there was just the same stories they’d had earlier. It was only when I went to the live earthquake cam on the local ABC station that I saw the marks the temblor had made. The web cam showed seismic activity in Los Angeles, Anaheim, San Bernadino and Long Beach. All of them showed a similar pattern of markings.

Finally I just turned on the television which had more instant information than my phone had. I found out that it was a 6.4 earthquake which was similar to the one in 94, but the epicenter of this one was far away from me. The news people kept on talking and showing videos that viewers were sending in showing hanging lamps swaying. As is the habit now, they kept replaying the video so it seemed like the earthquake had lasted forever. The news people had to find something to say to fill the space until they got some more real news to report. They went into warning mode saying it was a good time to check your emergency supplies. There’s a case of battered bottles of water in the garage and think there’s a tent in there as well. As for emergency food as long as nobody is picky and willing to eat spaghetti sauce on pita chips, we’re good. I have heavy gloves and lots of plastic trash bags. Fire extinguisher and first aid kit.

Of course after the 94 earthquake I didn’t eat for a week not because there was no food but because I just couldn’t eat. I barely drank water. I lost ten pounds.

Actually ever since the 94 quake I have shoes and my purse next to the bed along with a flashlight and radio. There’s a jacket in the trunk of my car and a pair of old shoes too just in case.

I’m the family busy body so I had to tell everyone else the latest details. They knew there’d been an earthquake but little else. And these are people who’s faces are glued to their phones all the time. Their excuse is that I am sort of an amateur detective since I write about them and know how to find things out. Oh, well.

Finally I went back to the computer ignoring the potential danger of the bookcases behind me and tried to pick up where I’d left off while wondering if there’d be aftershocks.