Pat heard the whistling of the wind blowing around the northwest side of the cabin. He stretched to see out the crack in the back window curtains and saw gray clouds scuttling across the sky. If he kept calling, maybe someone would hear him and come before it snowed again. He pressed the mike button. “W7BUC listening. W7BUC monitoring.” Over and over again he changed frequencies and called.
“Probably ain’t gonna do no good, but ya can keep callin’ if ya want.” Bill shrugged and walked from the room.
Pat stared at the ceiling as if he could see through it into heaven. “God, are You sitting up there? Can You hear me? Don’t You know what’s happening? Please help me stop them. Don’t let the Draconians take our world and our people.” He paused and bowed his head. “It’s Your world, too, You know.”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish