Author note: I wasn’t so keen on the prompt today, but I got there. I’m sorry I keep seeming to injure or kill people the last few days. Maybe I’ll perk up tomorrow. Also, disclaimer: no research was done on lightning strikes in the writing of this story.
Prompt: The main character is a materialistic 25-year-old man. The story begins in a penthouse. A sudden storm blows up. The theme of the story is risk-taking.
Not long after the storm blew up, he received a call from the courier to say they were on their way but they were going to be taking It slowly what with the rain that had just started. Christian sighed as he once again passed the window and looked out, attempting to see the courier van down below.
“Don’t you think you should call them and tell them to come back when the weather’s better?” asked his fiancee, Brooke, who was sitting with her legs over one arm of the sofa.
“They’ll be practically here soon,” Christian snapped in reply. “Wherever they are, it’ll be easier for them to just keep coming at this point.”
“Won’t all your stuff get wet as they bring It up?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it will all be covered in plastic. That sort of furniture would never be exposed to the elements like that during transportation.” His phone rang and he quickly answered it, putting the phone to his ear. “Yes?” He listened for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I’ll be right down.” He disconnected the call. “They’re here. Finally.”
“Please tell me you’re meeting them in the foyer. You’re not going out in this weather, are you?”
“They’re not sure which apartment building it is,” Christian replied, slipping on his coat. “I said l’d go down and wave.”
“Well, if you catch your death, don’t blame me.”
A few minutes later, Christian was down in front of his apartment building, shielding his face from the rain as he looked for the white moving van. He could feel the wind trying to buffet him down the street, and took hold of a lamp post to keep his footing.
Too late, he realised what a bad idea that was in weather like this. Time seemed to slow down as Christian saw the lightning strike the top of the lamp, and soon after felt the jolt as the current moved through the metal and down his spine.
The next thing he knew, he woke up in a hospital room. Everything hurt, but he managed to turn his head enough to see Brooke sitting in the plastic chair near the window.
“Hey, you’re awake!” she exclaimed. “I’ll call for a doctor.” She kissed him on the forehead.
Christian grunted in reply. Something was praying on his mind, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He lay there quietly while the doctor checked him over and gave him some painkillers . It was only after the doctor had gone and It was just him and Brooke again the he was finally able to figure out what was bothering him.
“Brooke,” he said. “Did my furniture arrive?”