A Good Kind of Knowing

By Kathy Lynn Harris, Copyright ©2003

  Morning clouds hung heavy and low, holding in for as long as they could the hint of relief the night air had offered. Before long, white rays that seemed so benign behind the gray clouds would turn bright as fire and wrap all who dared to step outside in their unforgiving heat. It was summer, it was Texas—and not even Willie Nelson’s Christmas album would help today.

  Sera popped Willie from her cassette player and flipped through the pile of tapes on the front seat of her mint-condition, 1958 Cadillac Eldorado. She hummed and rolled down her windows, waiting for the renovated air conditioning to kick in and cool her sweat-dampened forehead. She pushed away a wave of aching nausea, another one of many hitting without warning these days. Must be this God-awful heat, she thought. Either that or a miracle birth fit for the tabloids was on the horizon.