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| VOL. 6, NO. 1 |
SEPT. 25, 1964
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Theme of the Week
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| My First Hour This Morning By JoEllen Luebke |
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| The sound of a splintering tree thumping against something solid awoke me from my dream. I jumped out of bed with a start, to be brought back to reality by the damp chilly floor and a gust of icy air from my open window. I dressed quickly so as not to catch cold, and as I glanced out the window, a nightmare stared back at me. The September wind shrieked and moaned mournfully outside, like a child in pain. Our beautiful green trees were doub-led over by the force of the wind and looked as if they would snap at the next gust. The sky was ebony; not a trace of white could be seen. The morning was brightened by the warmth and aromas of our kitchen. The smell of eggs frying and crisp brown bacon filled my nostrils. As the dark brown coffee and the eggs and bacon warmed my insides, the brightness of the room warmed my spirits. Even though it was cold and sullen outside, the light shining brightly and the taste of good warm food made the day once again seem bright and happy. Editor's note: In future is-sues of The Westerner, original themes will be published if they are well written. Themes should be turned in to your English teachers and they will be sent to The Westerner. |
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