Storm Comes A’Callin’


Storm’s coming. Sky’s like a sack of rotten cotton overhead, and the air’s hot, wet. Tastes like copper.

The first time I listened to this story, I was walking alone in warm rain, on a deserted, volcano-blasted beach in Hawaii. Since then, it’s become one of my favourite pieces of audio fiction. I’ve listened to it countless times. It’s like a favourite song, one for which you know every word.

I listen to this story sometimes when I’m stressed and need a time out. Or if I’m trying to drift off to sleep. It has a perfect blend of ambiance, imagery, and creepy surrealism. But what really does it for me is the music, the truly old-style blues soundtrack is perfect. The whole thing feels like a 15 minute blues song, and it makes you feel how blues should.

Ain’t heard Big Bill Broozy in years, but the storm’s got a memory a thousand miles long. I can hear waves on the river all the way from here. Storm Man’s brother slapping his knees to the rhythm. I pick along, best I can.

Norm Sherman at The Drabblecast always does an awesome job. It probably is my favourite podcast, the stories are always good, and the production values are the best of any podcast I’ve ever heard. If you like this story, go and check out some more. Trust me.

The story itself begins at around 7.45, but the intro stuff is great too, if you want to hear the rest of Norm’s “In Search of the Mongolian Deathworm” it can be found on the Drabblecast B-Sides sister podcast. And you do, because it’s awesome.

Summer now. The grass is green, field’s growing tall, and the flies buzz everywhere. I’m waiting, watching the horizon for the rotten-cotton clouds. Fall won’t be long — never is at my age. Rain will come then, and maybe him. I don’t know what it’ll be next time.

But I’m still here, for now. I’m still here.