The Weatherman

The Weatherman

William stood up, stretched, and began shutting down the house for the night.

"Is it 10 o'clock already?" asked his wife, JoAnne.

"Yep. Got to get up early – chores don't do themselves," he stated. JoAnne was used to the routine.

"Tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"Nope."

With the coming of Spring, JoAnne had hoped the season would awaken his libido. She loved him but was frustrated by his lack of conjugal interest.

It had progressed to the point where she had contemplated moving beyond just flirting with one of her online "boyfriends." She had even talked to one on the phone.

Moving to the bedroom, she sat in front of her computer and made her nightly entry in her blog. As usual, she bemoaned her lack of intimacy.

"Can I help?" almost immediately appeared in the comment box. Peering over her glasses, she saw it was from Bob34.

"Don't tempt me LOL," she responded.

"I'm serious, Farmer's Daughter." She smiled at the use of her screen name.

"Perhaps one night, but not tonight Bob," she typed before turning the computer off.

By the time she got into bed, William was snoring. With a sigh, JoAnne drifted off to sleep.

The sound of thunder, pouring rain, and a ringing phone woke her. Glancing at the clock, JoAnne saw it was 12:30 as she listened to William on the phone.

"Hello," she heard him say.

"How the hell would I know? I'm in Iowa and this ain't the weather service!" came his angry voice. After a pause, he said, "All I can tell you is that here, we're in the middle of thunderstorm." The phone slammed down and she felt him move back under the covers.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Wrong number. Some idiot wanted to know if the coast was clear."

Notes

Word Count: 300 exactly

An entry for April 25 "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"  [13+]
Prompt: Write a story that takes place during a sudden spring thunderstorm.

Thank you for taking time to read my words. I would appreciate it if you took a moment and left a comment. Your reaction, impressions, criticisms, - yes, even praise are all equally welcome.

Ken