When’s the last time your sig other said something similar to you?
The Setup: Yancy and Rosa have found themselves on a Caribbean island trying to live through a hurricane. They’re hunkered down at a house belonging to Coquina. No lights, no electricity, nothing much to do except . . . well, what comes natural.
Later, when they had time to think about it, their recollections differed as to exactly when the top of Coquina’s house blew off. Yancy thought it had happened a few moments before they finished, as Rosa’s fingertips began to dig into his arms. But she said no, it was the precise instant she came that the roof had peeled away, the nails popping like firecrackers.
Yancy had known without turning what the loud noise meant. Suddenly he could see Rosa beneath him and she could see the clouds, because even at night a hurricane brings its own particular light. The wind came wailing into the open room yet the rain flew dead sideways over the gap where the boards had been, and not a drop fell upon the bed.
Rosa had laughed deeply, shaking Yancy by the shoulders and saying, “That is what I’m talkin’ about, mister!”