The Journal: Ash Fall (38 page)

“Well, you look absolutely radiant, so he
must be good for you!” She gave me a brief hug and we joined the
others on the deck.

* * *

Back at home, I stood at the glass door
watching the blue sky fade and the ash move in again.

Our reprieve was over.

“It’s starting again?” Mark asked from behind
me.

“It looks that way. There must have been more
eruptions,” I said sadly.

“Should we call the boys?”

“They’ll notice and do what needs to be
done,” I replied. I couldn’t take my eyes from the scene
outside.

Like before, the ash came down gently at
first, and then it changed. The dark gray flakes got larger and
denser. Soon the sky was gone and there was nothing to see but ash
falling.

Even as a teenager, Deborah was always
writing, whether it was short stories, poetry or journal entries.
She has promised to someday dig those notebooks out to see how far
she has come.

Having grown up in Detroit, the kid of a cop,
Deborah realized she really disliked city living and
gravitated to the country in her early twenties. From there, after
her sons were grown and on their own, she made the big step of
moving to the woods and living off grid.

It was the many years of having to prepare
for deep and snowy winters that gave her the knowledge and
experience to give her characters the same expertise.