Creative Writing: Dismal Swamp

“Wake up,” that’s what I heard after passing out from all the blows to the face. My vision is blurred I’m trying to stay awake but I lost consciousness; all of a sudden I felt a splash of coldness on my face, and I woke up gasping for air. The man with the deep ominous voice said, “Wakey wakey little man” I replied, “where the h*ll is Mako!” when I was fully aware of where I was, that’s when I started to panic.

“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian

It had been raining intermittently for the past four days and by late Saturday afternoon, another storm was approaching the rural southern town of Wrongberight. Clemmy Sue Jarvis since birth has lived in the town and had a simple philosophy concerning weather. As long as she was six feet above ground instead of six feet below, she did not care what it was. Today as she lifts her petite frame into her rusty Ford pickup, she is preoccupied with what she hopes to accomplish this evening. Absorbed in though she pulls out of her driveway and heads south on Flat Bottom Road along the edge the Dismal Swamp towards the isolated home of her dearest friend Estelle

As soon as she shut the door, she realizes Clemmie Sue never replaced the broken window on the passenger side. She automatically searches under the seat, finds a large black plastic trash bag, a roll of bright orange duct tape, and creates a makeshift window. While she sits there shivering, glances around, catches a glimpse of a tattered bath towel behind the driver’s seat, and grabs it. Instantly, she begins to remove the moisture from her dress, which clings to her like Saran Wrap. All too soon she discovers three Mother of Peal buttons missing from the front of her dress and her fancy bun no longer fancy and her yellow satin shoes satin encrusted with mud. Using the towel, she removes the thick mud from her shoes. Afterwards, she pulls a bent safety pin, a broken comb, and several rusty hairpins from her purse and begins to repair what the storm had torn

“Oh Clemmy Sue you just sit tight and tomorrow I be buying you a shiny blue four wheel pick-up. Ain’t nothing gonna stop me from getting to that there mailbox. You be hearing Miss Ta Rot, tonight be my l-u-c-k-y night.” Estelle Louis said, as she opens the door and lowers herself to the ground. The moment she closed the door, its makeshift window causes Clemmy Sue to lose sight of her.

Mrs. Chipley and Sarah were standing in the rain in front of Aunt Sarah’s house. Sally felt uncomfortable because she barely knew Aunt Sarah. “ Can you just go in the house already, i’m soaked with water,” says Mrs. Chipley. “ I’m sure Aunt Sarah doesn’t want me here,” Sally says with a frightened face.

Clemmie Sue pays Beth, gives her a dollar tip, and thanks her for making Estelle Louise’s birthday memorable. Beth shepherds them to the front door, shame engulfs her as she stands there watching them get into a battered pickup and drive off into the stormy night.

“Oh, Clemmy Sue you just sit tight and tomorrow I be buyin’ you a shiny, four wheel, pick up. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from gettin’ to that there mailbox. You be hearin’ Miss Ta Rot, tonight be my l-u-c-k-y night,” says Estelle Louis as she opens the door and lowers herself to the ground. The moment she closed the door, its makeshift window blocked Clemmy Sue’s view.

By Saturday morning, the rural southern town of Wrongberight has experienced four days of intermittent rainstorms and another storm is rapidly approaching. Clemmy Sue Jarvis since birth has lived here and she has a simple philosophy concerning weather. As long as the great man upstairs allows her to draw breath, she does not give a damn about the weather on any given day.

To ward off boredom while she waits, Clemmy Sue slaps the earphones over her ears, turns the CD player to full volume, and closes her eyes and begins to sing along with Dolly Parton. In no time at all, she fell asleep and when she awoke twenty minutes later, she begins to wonder why Estelle Louise had not returned. Therefore, she decides to drive over to the mailbox and check on her. Much to her surprise, the mailbox and Estelle Louise are not there. With darting eyes, she searches the area and soon discovers that Estelle Louise’s home is on fire. Panicking, she drives in a maniacal frenzy, up Estelle Louise’s slippery driveway. Within sight of the burning house, she slams the brakes, and the truck slid into the middle of Estelle Louise’s flowerbed and stops. Frantically, she dials nine-one-one, to inform them that a large, white, delivery box truck had driven straight through

In the rural southern town of Wrongberight humidly hung in the air as thick as the mud that lay upon the earth. The town had been experiencing torrential rains for the last couple of days and another storm was approaching from the northeast. One of the locals, Clemmy Sue Jarvis, whose stands just a tad taller than a pinecone and weighs less than a pine needle, would rather dance with old man Jackson’s jackass than drive on the rain soaked roads. However, late Saturday afternoon she has no alternative, but to cautiously, ease out of her driveway, turn south onto Flat Bottom Road and follow it along the edge of Dismal Swamp towards the isolated home of her lifelong friend Estelle Louise.

I vaguely remembered a hurricane coming through when I was but a child. The howling winds and heavy rains had caused much damage to my father’s plantation and to others along the river. At that time, I had never been into the city; now that I thought about it, Angelique was in the city when the storm came- Anastasia had held me and soothed my fears as debris slammed against the wooden shutters that covered the window of my bedroom…

For the past four days, intermittent rainstorms have inundated the rural southern town of Wrongberight with humidity as thick as the mud that covers to meadows, farmer’s fields, and roadways. . Clemmy Sue Jarvis, one of the locals, stands a tad taller than a pine cone and weighs less than a pine needle, can live with the humidity, but would rather strip down to her birthday suit and dance with old man Jackson’s jackass than drive on muddy slick roads. As another storm approaches from the northeast, late Saturday afternoon, she realizes however, that she has no other choice, and cautiously eases out of her driveway. Slowly turns south onto Flat Bottom Road and follows it along the edge of the Dismal Swamp towards the isolated home of her dearest

A group of medical students awaited their guest lecturer at the local morgue. The man was from a foreign country and was the best cardiologist the world had ever seen. The doctor walked into the room at the morgue and a rush of fresh air swept through the room.

The lights flickered, Mr. Perry blurred “Daylight in the Swamp’’ I jumped out of bed and hit my head on the real, it felt like a brick had hit me across the face. The first thing I had to do was get dressed. When I was done, I went to brush my teeth. I had thought in my brain saying,