The four of us tracked into the house to shower and get ready for dinner. I was uneasy that I seemed to be the only one who felt this sensation. We didn’t turn on a TV, nor did we listen to the radio in the car as we drove to Greenport for dinner.
Watching the boats in the harbor, we sat outside enjoying summer ale and yummy burgers. Tom got up to use the rest room and while walking back through the indoor section of the bar, he passed a television. I could see him staring at the TV intently and then he waved me over.
“You’re not crazy, Fran. What you felt this afternoon was an earthquake!”
The news reports were frenzied. Even though the earthquake was minor, the Washington monument had been damaged and office buildings were evacuated. It was surreal to me.
I knew I had never felt anything like that before, it’s just not something we experience here that often. A life-long east coaster, I had never felt even the smallest of quakes, certainly nothing like the earthquakes that consistently shake our friends and family members on the west coast. This mini sample of our earth adjusting itself was enough to keep me planted right here.
Or, was it a sign from the Universe that I should abandon my lazy ways and bicycle more often?
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