I was sitting on beach watching Cory. He was doing his laps, coming from his side, had passed the dry river bed and was about twenty feet from shore when I saw lightening, heard the thunder.
The sky, which had been a brilliant blue was suddenly turning grey. Cory, alert to the danger was stroking towards me, now coming from the sea, as another bolt flashed, thunder rolled, and rain began to pour.
I led to my house, the rain lashing us, the lightening so close, the thunder so loud.
Cory was wearing a tee shirt and his shorts, his usual swimming costume, as was I. I hurried into my room to find something that could fit him. There was my tie waist pajama bottoms, and a baggy nightgown. I grabbed them and hurried out;
“Here,” I said, handing him a towel, “Dry yourself, pull this on, I’m going to change…”.
I raced into my bedroom, closed the door. I popped into the bathroom, a quick shower with my shorts and shirt, then took them off, wrang them, tossed them on the shower curtain pole, and quickly pulled on slacks and a long sleeved shirt.