The storm rages against the walls with a ferocity that threatens to shatter the glass and crack the stone of the castle. He watches it progress, dark clouds rolling overhead.
His eyes turn earthward, watches the low folk running in the streets to beg for shelter in the homes of their kin, which are being torn apart by the gale.
‘Come back to dinner, dear,’ his wife coos. ‘You’ll make yourself miserable watching all that.’
‘I feel I ought to do something.’
‘Nonsense. You have your house and they have theirs.’
He sighs. Ah well, at least I tried. He turns and follows his wife back to the dinner table.
Paddy Dobson
19th October 2023