Hurricanes, one after another tore through with tornadoes ripping through the townships.   It was her birthday.  She was safe and removed, watching the destruction on TV, sipping club soda and lime, curled up in her usual place on the end of the couch.

“Look at the palm trees bending,” she said to no one.  “I’ve never actually seen a palm tree in real life.”  

“Sure you have,” argued her son who was playing with the dog.  “When we went to Disney World, there were palms.   And how about all those palms in South Carolina at Myrtle Beach?”  

“Were they real?  Truly real?  Or something from a nursery plopped in by a developer in the courtyards of the skyscrapers.   They hardly have enough soil to exist in.   I’m not sure they weren’t plastic.”

“Oh, come on.  They aren’t plastic.”  

“The ones in DIsney World were plastic.   I  touched them.” she said as the newscaster on the TV pointed out a  car driving down the deserted street in Miami.

“That’s very dangerous, to be driving around in this weather,” he said as the wind tossed him down on the sidewalk and ripped the camera into the air.

“Oh my God,” she said and took another sip of club soda.

Glenda Kotchish

© September 2017