I really struggled to work up the motivation to write a story for this month’s (May 2021) Furious Fiction, but I got there eventually.

The story below isn’t the one I submitted, so I won’t list the challenge criteria here. It is very similar though, with just a few small changes, most of which come in the last third of the story.

Win, lose or draw (not that that’s possible) I will post the other version at the end of the month.

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They called her Mother Apple, though none of them knew why; the name had been given to her long before any of them were born. In their free time they would make game of hypothesising how and why she was given the moniker. Their best guess was that she had some connection to the famed technology monolith from the 21^st century. There was no evidence for such speculation, more than anything it was the potential irony that attracted them to that particular narrative. The only thing they did know about her, and even this could not be verified, was that she was born during a storm. They knew this because more than half of her lessons began with her reminding the students of this “fact”.

“Yesterday, we spoke about the events that led to The West’s secession from the greater continent, including the prominent role Bordertown played in ensuring a path of non-violence was followed,” the old woman began her tutorial, “Today we will further explore just how it was that our small but proud city was able to not only remain sitting on the fence during such a volatile period of history, but how we played a key role in the negotiations between the two sides.”

The storm hit the very instant that Mother Apple stopped talking. There was no warning, no first few drops of rain, no dark clouds slowly making their way across the sky. One moment it was light outside, the next it was dark, and by the time the students could register what was happening, they were being herded downstairs into the bunker, no commotion but no dilly-dallying either.

The bunker underneath the education hall was designed as a short-term fail-safe. Thus, even though there was only 6 of them in total, Mother Apple included, the space was small enough to provoke feelings of claustrophobia in the group. When the alarm finally ceased, one of the boys leaned across to his closest peer,

“How long do you think before she reminds us that she was born during a storm?” he asked at a volume that may have gone unnoticed had they still be upstairs.

“We may be down here a while, Mr. Forrest. I would be more than happy to continue our regular lesson if you think it will help take your mind off what we are likely to encounter when we can return to the surface,” Mother Apple interjected, before the chit chat could progress.

“Sorry, mother,” the boy replied, “This is our first time in the bunker.”

“But you have been well prepared for this moment,” the old women replied, “In fact, I would like you to tell me everything you know about storms, as well as what comes after them. If that’s alright with you?”

The heavy rain was hardly audible from their position of relative safety, but the impending aftermath of the tempest was never far from their thoughts.

“A storm is a beginning and an ending,” the boy began.

James Farish-Carradice