Mr. Bane is a sawmill operator at a local lumber yard.
This afternoon he is home earlier than usual as the
company has let the workers off since midday, so that
they could look after their families in the anticipation of a
direct hit by the storm. He had passed by Port-of-Call for
a drink or two with a few of his colleagues, and by the
time he reaches home he was thoroughly intoxicated.
Tarah, who herself would normally have been out
with her friends about this time, has taken the
government’s warning seriously. She has decided to stay
indoors, keeping periodic checks on the storm’s progress
via the radio and television for updates.
Mrs. Bane peering out of the window observes in the
distance huge masses dark of clouds, she says, “Boy! The
sky so ugly, I’m glad you are here with me. I’m going to
check the kitchen to see if we might need anything.”
As the afternoon wears on the sky changes drastically;
an otherwise red and orange sunset is obscured by the
foreboding, cheerless clouds
ALBERT WILLIAMS Reporting 