pinshooter45
Master
WHEN ATLAS DROPPED THE BALL
It had been another hot and sticky Indiana August day. I had worked all day in the yard cutting grass, weed eating around the fences, and rototilling the garden so the sprinkler would be more effective that evening when I used it on the garden. I was dead tired, my arthritis in my right ankle, left shoulder, and both hands was flaring up to the point I had taken my prescribed dose of vicodin, and Xanax. But yet here I lay staring at a darkened ceiling lit only by a sliver of light produced by the single street light across the street. My wife lay beside me sound asleep, I envied her. My insomnia was getting worse and I was getting angry with my family Doctor. He did not like to prescribe sleeping pills,and my lack of sleep was making me worse more and more on edge. I would call and make another appointment in the morning, and try again to get what I believed would get me some sleep. I rolled over and felt for my cell phone and when I found it I flipped it open and held it close to my face so my near sighted eyes could read the time, 1:30 AM. This was ridiculous, so I rolled over and sat up in bed to get up, but my feet did not touch the carpeted floor. Instead I felt the fur of our Chow, Buttercup. I rubbed her side with my feet while I used the light from my cell phone to find my glasses. She rolled over and groaned with pleasure. I put my glasses on and reached down to pet her head as my feet moved away from her and on to the floor. “You’re such a good girl” I said to her softly as I rose and began to walk over to where I kept my prescriptions on the dresser. Still using my cell phone for light I found my bottle of pain killers and opened the bottle and shook out one pill. As I made my way out of the bedroom and to the fridge for something to wash the pill down with, I briefly wondered if this was how Doctor House stared out. Finding my favorite mandarin orange flavored water, I popped the pill in my mouth and took a large gulp of water to start the pill on its journey. Maybe a second one will make me drowsy in a little while.
I made my way into the living room and clicked the TV on. I channel surfed for a little while and found nothing of interest. The local channels were running infomercials for male supplements, History Channel, Discovery Channel ,FX and the others were all running repeats of shows I had already seen. I briefly went to Fox News, and they were still live talking about the earthquakes in Turkey, and China that had happened18 hours apart the previous day. Mostly rehashed and the same videos I had already seen. They had lost the live feeds because most of the power was out. CNN was doing the same thing. So I figured I might as well sit down at the computer and log on to INGO and see who was the latest to buy a new Mosin, AR,Glock, or 1911. Or maybe there would be a good rant about something political. Or maybe a good Zombie thread had been started.
I logged in checked my messages, and looked through my subscribed threads, responded to a few then clicked on new posts. To my surprise no one had bought a new Mosin, damn what’s wrong it had been nearly a week and no one had bought a new Mosin! There was a nice post with plenty of pictures of a really tricked out .308 tactical rifle, I congratulated him on the nice buy asked for a range report when he got a chance to break it in. I continued to browse the posts answering where I thought I had something to contribute until my black cat Merlin jumped up on the computer desk, and began pawing at me for attention. I began to stroke his back and he purred with approval and laid down right in front of me with his four paws hanging over the keyboard making it impossible to type any more because he wasn’t going anywhere till he got his fill of my petting him. The clock on the screen read 3:30 AM. Time to quit anyway and try to go back to bed. Just then I felt Buttercup’s cold nose nudge my elbow. I looked down at her and petted her head. “I know what you want,you need to go outside and potty don’t you girl.” She backed away and as if to give me room to push away from the desk and swivel around and get up which I did.
But all of a sudden I felt unstable like I was dizzy and my knees buckled and I did a face plant into the floor. What a time for the Vicodin to kick in I thought in a haze. But the rattling of glass and banging of doors and clattering of pots and pans quickly cleared the stars out of my head. From out of our bedroom I heard my wife scream MIKE! Followed by a thud that was louder than the glass and pans that were rattling. I struggled to my feet only to fall three more times. I was now at the end of my couch and used the arm rest to help me to my feet. I only made it two steps before a large chunk of drywall fell from the ceiling and struck me, and again I found myself on the floor. I could now feel the whole house shaking more violently. The lights went out and the blown in insulation was hanging in the air like a thick grey fog. I began to choke on it as I struggled on my hands and knees to reach my wife. I heard another crash from the bedroom and another cry for help from my wife. I coughed and hacked as I crawled in what seemed like slow motion even though I could feel the adrenalin coursing through my veins. When after what seemed like an eternity I finally reached the door way to our bedroom, and just as suddenly as it began the shaking stopped. Through the cloud of insulation fibers still floating in he air I could see that the top of my wife’s dresser had fallen over. It was precariously laying on the edge of the lower part of the dresser, and the rest had fallen onto the bed. It was deathly quiet now. I asked in as calm a voice as I could “Are you O.K. Honey?” “I think so she responded, but my arms are pinned between the bed and the dresser you’ll have to try to pull me out. I grabbed her feet and began to pull her out. “You’ll have to try to wiggle as much as you can as I try to pull you out” I instructed her. It only took a few moments to free her of her temporary prison. As she stood up I noticed a cut on her forehead that was bleeding pretty good. “You’re bleeding” I said as I quickly turned around to grab a tee shirt from my dresser to use as a bandage. We needed to get it under control as quickly as possible due to the Plavix she had to take on a daily basis. “What the hell just happened?” she asked. I’m not sure, but I think we just had an earthquake. “Here…in Indiana” she said “It’s possible” I said “The New Madrid Fault runs along close to the Mississippi river and there’s another fault I think that runs up through the eastern part of Illinois and western Indiana somewhere” as I put her hand on the improvised bandage to keep pressure on the wound. I traded places with her and lifted the top of the dresser off the bed and on to the floor. I then guided her back around the foot of the bed so I could pull open my top dresser drawer and feel for my flashlight. The big metal Maglite wasn’t hard to find and I quickly grabbed it and switched it on. We moved to the other side of the bed and grabbed the quilt and shook it to get the pieces of shattered mirror off of the bed. “You’d better lie down and wait till the bleeding stops” She tried to protest a little but being a nurse she knew I was right. I then scanned that side of the room for my .45 which I always kept on the nightstand. The gun and the extra magazine had only fallen a few inches from the stand. I picked them both up and placed them back in their usual spot and contemplated what we should do next.
WHEN ATLAS DROPPED THE BALL
It had been another hot and sticky Indiana August day. I had worked all day in the yard cutting grass, weed eating around the fences, and rototilling the garden so the sprinkler would be more effective that evening when I used it on the garden. I was dead tired, my arthritis in my right ankle, left shoulder, and both hands was flaring up to the point I had taken my prescribed dose of vicodin, and Xanax. But yet here I lay staring at a darkened ceiling lit only by a sliver of light produced by the single street light across the street. My wife lay beside me sound asleep, I envied her. My insomnia was getting worse and I was getting angry with my family Doctor. He did not like to prescribe sleeping pills,and my lack of sleep was making me worse more and more on edge. I would call and make another appointment in the morning, and try again to get what I believed would get me some sleep. I rolled over and felt for my cell phone and when I found it I flipped it open and held it close to my face so my near sighted eyes could read the time, 1:30 AM. This was ridiculous, so I rolled over and sat up in bed to get up, but my feet did not touch the carpeted floor. Instead I felt the fur of our Chow, Buttercup. I rubbed her side with my feet while I used the light from my cell phone to find my glasses. She rolled over and groaned with pleasure. I put my glasses on and reached down to pet her head as my feet moved away from her and on to the floor. “You’re such a good girl” I said to her softly as I rose and began to walk over to where I kept my prescriptions on the dresser. Still using my cell phone for light I found my bottle of pain killers and opened the bottle and shook out one pill. As I made my way out of the bedroom and to the fridge for something to wash the pill down with, I briefly wondered if this was how Doctor House stared out. Finding my favorite mandarin orange flavored water, I popped the pill in my mouth and took a large gulp of water to start the pill on its journey. Maybe a second one will make me drowsy in a little while.
I made my way into the living room and clicked the TV on. I channel surfed for a little while and found nothing of interest. The local channels were running infomercials for male supplements, History Channel, Discovery Channel ,FX and the others were all running repeats of shows I had already seen. I briefly went to Fox News, and they were still live talking about the earthquakes in Turkey, and China that had happened18 hours apart the previous day. Mostly rehashed and the same videos I had already seen. They had lost the live feeds because most of the power was out. CNN was doing the same thing. So I figured I might as well sit down at the computer and log on to INGO and see who was the latest to buy a new Mosin, AR,Glock, or 1911. Or maybe there would be a good rant about something political. Or maybe a good Zombie thread had been started.
I logged in checked my messages, and looked through my subscribed threads, responded to a few then clicked on new posts. To my surprise no one had bought a new Mosin, damn what’s wrong it had been nearly a week and no one had bought a new Mosin! There was a nice post with plenty of pictures of a really tricked out .308 tactical rifle, I congratulated him on the nice buy asked for a range report when he got a chance to break it in. I continued to browse the posts answering where I thought I had something to contribute until my black cat Merlin jumped up on the computer desk, and began pawing at me for attention. I began to stroke his back and he purred with approval and laid down right in front of me with his four paws hanging over the keyboard making it impossible to type any more because he wasn’t going anywhere till he got his fill of my petting him. The clock on the screen read 3:30 AM. Time to quit anyway and try to go back to bed. Just then I felt Buttercup’s cold nose nudge my elbow. I looked down at her and petted her head. “I know what you want,you need to go outside and potty don’t you girl.” She backed away and as if to give me room to push away from the desk and swivel around and get up which I did.
But all of a sudden I felt unstable like I was dizzy and my knees buckled and I did a face plant into the floor. What a time for the Vicodin to kick in I thought in a haze. But the rattling of glass and banging of doors and clattering of pots and pans quickly cleared the stars out of my head. From out of our bedroom I heard my wife scream MIKE! Followed by a thud that was louder than the glass and pans that were rattling. I struggled to my feet only to fall three more times. I was now at the end of my couch and used the arm rest to help me to my feet. I only made it two steps before a large chunk of drywall fell from the ceiling and struck me, and again I found myself on the floor. I could now feel the whole house shaking more violently. The lights went out and the blown in insulation was hanging in the air like a thick grey fog. I began to choke on it as I struggled on my hands and knees to reach my wife. I heard another crash from the bedroom and another cry for help from my wife. I coughed and hacked as I crawled in what seemed like slow motion even though I could feel the adrenalin coursing through my veins. When after what seemed like an eternity I finally reached the door way to our bedroom, and just as suddenly as it began the shaking stopped. Through the cloud of insulation fibers still floating in he air I could see that the top of my wife’s dresser had fallen over. It was precariously laying on the edge of the lower part of the dresser, and the rest had fallen onto the bed. It was deathly quiet now. I asked in as calm a voice as I could “Are you O.K. Honey?” “I think so she responded, but my arms are pinned between the bed and the dresser you’ll have to try to pull me out. I grabbed her feet and began to pull her out. “You’ll have to try to wiggle as much as you can as I try to pull you out” I instructed her. It only took a few moments to free her of her temporary prison. As she stood up I noticed a cut on her forehead that was bleeding pretty good. “You’re bleeding” I said as I quickly turned around to grab a tee shirt from my dresser to use as a bandage. We needed to get it under control as quickly as possible due to the Plavix she had to take on a daily basis. “What the hell just happened?” she asked. I’m not sure, but I think we just had an earthquake. “Here…in Indiana” she said “It’s possible” I said “The New Madrid Fault runs along close to the Mississippi river and there’s another fault I think that runs up through the eastern part of Illinois and western Indiana somewhere” as I put her hand on the improvised bandage to keep pressure on the wound. I traded places with her and lifted the top of the dresser off the bed and on to the floor. I then guided her back around the foot of the bed so I could pull open my top dresser drawer and feel for my flashlight. The big metal Maglite wasn’t hard to find and I quickly grabbed it and switched it on. We moved to the other side of the bed and grabbed the quilt and shook it to get the pieces of shattered mirror off of the bed. “You’d better lie down and wait till the bleeding stops” She tried to protest a little but being a nurse she knew I was right. I then scanned that side of the room for my .45 which I always kept on the nightstand. The gun and the extra magazine had only fallen a few inches from the stand. I picked them both up and placed them back in their usual spot and contemplated what we should do next.
Last edited:
Subscribed..
, we can wait.
