A story about a dark and stormy night

It was a dark and stormy night.  We stood huddled together, not knowing what to expect, waiting for something to happen, hearts pounding and looking up every now and again to watch the planes fly low over our heads and to watch the dark prurple clouds dancing in the strong wind.

And then…. a gunshot.  We ran and got even more disorientated, there are trees and tall grass and dust and no light, just every now and again everything is lit up by lighting and then again only darkness, we call out to each other, trying to place everybody by their voices.  My one friend has dissapeared, is he all right, where is he?  My husband stay by my side, we can see a tiny spot of light in front of us and we try and keep to that.  We call out when we see obstacles and ask each other the whole time if everybody is OK.

Then it started to rain, we are wet and we are cold and we can still not see where we are going but the adrenaline is pumping and we forge ahead to places unknown and unseen except when there is another bolt of lightning

And then we see the club house and the finish banner and we know that our 4kilometer trail run on a golf course has come to an end.

What a great fun event – I can not wait for the next one.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to A story about a dark and stormy night

  1. betsgreyling says:

    Ons is ook maar lekker mal. Normale mense sit op so ‘n aand in hulle huise.

  2. SuritaBotha says:

    Nee wat wie wil nou in hulle huis sit as ons exciting ding kan doen wat die adrenalien so laat pomp.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s