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On the other line was her sister Keisha and I let the two of them talk up a storm. Tisha removed the top half of her suit. Then her headband was removed letting down those curly brown locks. She removed her sneakers and socks and got more comfortable sitting by the table. "Girl, you serious?", she said over the phone. Her chocolate brown skin looked pretty good right about now. Even her own sweat made her even hotter. I already had plans on what I'm going to do to her, so with her distracted over the phone I had an idea. I sent the spoon across the floor and under the table. . Time to execute Plan B. An hour later we were on the road in my car, carrying a load of clothes and perishable food, headed for my place. We started off with a steady conversation, but as we passed places where the storm had caused serious damage we fell silent, our laughter replaced by gasps. One house was cut right in half by a huge tree that had fallen like a meat cleaver, crushing everything in its path. Utility crews were tugging tangles of power lines off the streets, cutting fallen trees into pieces they could move out of the way, and we saw more fire trucks and ambulances than we really wanted to, reminders that the most fragile objects in most neighborhoods were the people who lived there. Kim let out a little whimper and I turned to see her wiping away tears. ‘Oh, those poor people. Did you notice that car that the big tree limb fell across? The roof was caved right in where the driver would have been!’ As if she had called for an encore, we rounded a corner and were held.
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