Texas Wind

As most of you know, Dawn and I were gone all of last week. I had business in Austin for two days, so Dawn came with and extended my trip to an entire week, touring, seeing friends, and taking in all the sights South Texas had to offer.
On the way home, we decided to take a two lane that skirted Dallas, allowing us to avoid sitting in the parking lot they refer to as US 35 North. Since Dawn was with, we drove the car instead of the Harley, giving her the freedom to explore Austin while I was working. Well the gas gauge was showing ¼ tank, so I thought I should find a place to fill up. I pulled into an Exxon, but the pump wouldn’t read my card, so I shut the gas cap and sat back down behind the wheel, feeling the frustration from dealing with something that didn’t work properly. I uttered three short words that meant, “I am through with this establishment.” And pulled away red faced. We traveled to the next town that was the home to about 1000 people. I pulled up to the pump of a gas station whose name escapes me, rolled down the windows and turned off the engine. Much like having a pet in the car, I need to open the windows so Dawn doesn’t overheat. At least with Dawn, I don’t have to worry about her jumping through the window and biting someone. The town was wide open, dotted widely with single story buildings. I glanced toward the North and saw the purple clouds of a storm brewing in our path. Once again I opened the gas cover and turned back to the pump, fumbling with my wallet to retrieve my card. It was then that I felt a chill and looked to the North. It was a wall of dirt and dust, picked up by the strong winds of the approaching weather front. There was no time but to turn my back to it and try to get the gas cap screwed back on and the cover closed. The wind hit me like a commercial bead blaster, stinging the back of my bald head as I jumped back in the car. Dawn had already tried shutting the windows, but the dust had made its presence felt in the light colored cockpit. I started the engine and rolled the windows the rest of the way. There was dirt and dust in our mouth and nose, not to mention some that must have blown up the leg of my shorts as I scrambled to the car.
I uttered the same three words and pointed the car north, toward the purple sky, opting for the chance at a truck stop near the intersection where we would pick up I-30 North to Little Rock.