Hurricane Alidore’s Fury-A Disabled Electrician turned Writer

Annabelle and I wake up on my sofa to the sound of howling winds and driving rain.

I look at my watch. It’s 11:22 in the morning.

Several of the feeder bands are passing through the city right now.

I step on the porch and am confronted with a chilling breeze and drizzle.

“Why don’t I make us breakfast? It might be the last home cooked meal we have for a while.”

“Sure,” Annabelle says

I have half a dozen eggs left in my refrigerator which I scramble and add strips of Sharp Cheddar along with a few pats of butter to make an omelet. I put the mixture into a skillet then light my gas range. Afterwards, I pour the last of my milk into glasses for me and Annabelle.

Soon enough breakfast is ready.

We say grace, then eat, smiling at each other.

After all the omelet is eaten and the milk is gone, Annabelle says, “Since you cooked, I’ll do the dishes.”

“Bae you don’t have to do that, you’re my guest.”

“I don’t mind.”

Annabelle clears the table and places the dishes in the sink. She then turns on the water when, suddenly, there is a flash of lightning.

Nervously, I shout, “Annabelle get away from the sink!”

“Why?” She asks with irritation.

“Because I don’t want you to be struck by lightning.”

“But I’m indoors.”

“Lightning can hit the pipes and travel through them.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“We’ll worry about the dishes later, come sit with me and listen to the radio.”

I pull my Sylvania Boom Box out of the closet and tune it to the news and information station.

The reporters paint a grim picture for the potential of casualties from the storm.

I think about the cashier and her husband and, suddenly, I’m feeling guilty about yelling at my girlfriend.

So, I tell her, “Bae, I’m so sorry I yelled at you. I was just afraid you’d be struck by lightning. All you were trying to do was help me.”

Annabelle rubs the hairs on my chest, then kisses me and says, “That’s all right. I’m glad you look out for me. My mom’s boyfriend always makes me do dishes no matter what the weather.”

“Sounds like a real jerk.”

“He is.”

“Well for future references, you should never do dishes, bathe, shower or talk on a corded phone or use anything that plugs into the electricity while it’s lightning. Lightning can travel through the plumbing, the phone lines, and the electrical wires and kill anyone it comes in contact with. ”

We listen to the radio for a little while longer then, Annabelle says, “Could you switch your boombox to a music station? I want to dance with you!”

“Sure, but I have two left feet.”

“And look how big I am.”

“I think you’re sexy.”

“Well, maybe I think your two left feet are sexy.”

“Say no more, let’s dance, bae!”

I turn the tuning knob all over until finally, I find a station playing music.

Annabelle and I stand on the rug of my living room and we dance until my back hurts and she is out of breath.

We sit back down on the sofa and continue to listen to the music. Soon we are sleepy from breakfast and dancing and we fall asleep on the sofa.

She sits up and I lay in her lap.

Hours pass.

Annabelle wakes me up and says, “Bae I have to go to the bathroom.”

I hear the howling wind and whipping rain then get up off of her. She walks to the bathroom then attempts to turn on the light.

“There’s no power.” She says.

“I think the flashlight I bought you yesterday is in your purse.”

Annabelle grabs her purse then goes into the bathroom and shuts the door.

I get the two flashlights I purchased for myself and walk around my house.

The bright LED circuits illuminate everywhere I go.

Then I go into my kitchen and check the weather radio. I scroll through the messages, which state “Hurricane Warning.”

I then set it down, realizing that I must conserve the batteries.

Annabelle steps out of the bathroom, then I go in by the light of my new flashlights.

After I am done relieving myself, I step out and Annabelle rushes up to me saying, “I’m scared.”

I gently hug her and reply, “I cannot make this storm go away, but I will try my best to comfort you.”

“What should we do?”

“Just hunker down I guess. It’s going to be like this for the next several hours.”

I then step out on my porch. There are several tree branches and roofing tiles all over my yard. Pieces of my vinyl siding are also falling off the exterior of my house.

It’s moments like these that I’m glad I have insurance.

After realizing that I could be hit by flying debris, I step back into my house and bolt the door shut.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s no worse than any other hurricane I rode out-I’ve seen a few. This is the first one I’ve experienced while on my own.”

Annabelle then says, “I usually enjoyed hurricanes because it meant time off from school and eating lots of junk food. Look how fat I am of course I like junk food.”

“Bae, I think you are beautiful. If only you knew how madly attracted I am to you, both body and soul.”

“You’re so sweet to tell me that, but there must be something wrong with you.”

“Well, I guess I’m somewhat of a perv because I’m attracted to plus-sized women.”

“But you’re my perv. And I’m glad to have you.”

I kiss Annabelle sweetly. Her glasses begin to fog up.

“I don’t want to make you do anything you’d regret, but I was wondering if we could cuddle in your bed,” Annabelle says with a bright blush.

“Sure. I would have let you sleep in my bed with me since the first night you stayed over, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. You know I do respect and revere you and I always will.”

“You’re so kind and thoughtful. I bet most guys would just use me and then dump me.”

“I’m not most guys.”

“I think God broke the mold after He made you.”

I blush, then kiss her.

Afterwards, there is an awkward silence.

“Well, let’s go cuddle in your bed, Johnny!” Annabelle says.

“Right behind you, bae!” I reply.

We walk to my bedroom and I pull back the blanket and sheets. We stare awkwardly but sweetly at each other for just a moment then climb into bed.

I lay on my back and she lies on her side with her head on my chest.

We share a sweet kiss.

“Take your shirt off!” Annabelle says.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I think you’re hot!”

Reluctantly I remove my shirt as I say, “I hope you’re not grossed out by all my body hair.”

“Nah, it doesn’t bother me.”

Annabelle begins to rub my chest and then says with excitement, “I could so make love to you right now!”

“I would want you to,” I gently answer.

“Are you sure? I mean I’m not a virgin,” She pauses then continues, “I was molested when I was seven years old. I also think that’s what made me gain weight, you know because it knocked my hormones are out of balance. You’re the first person I tell that to.”

I hold her hands and say, “Then, in my book, you’re still a virgin, unless you’ve been with anyone else?”

“No one else wanted me. What about you?”

“Only one person.”

“Wow, that’s hard to believe as cute as you are.”

Well in retrospect it didn’t mean anything. In fact, she basically used me then left me.”

“What was she like?”

“The sex was okay, the one time we did anything, but she was extremely cruel. We had been seeing each other for a while, then she had me meet her at her apartment one evening. She had taken some sort of drug which made her hypersexual. But she did all kinds of humiliating things to me then she had sex with me. It was erotic I guess for the moment, but there was no love or at least no love from her. I wanted her to love me, so I consented to all of it. The next morning I went to work with the previous night playing over and over again in my head. I was distracted from my work, to say the least, and that’s when I got shocked, lost my balance and fell eight feet and ruined my back. After she found out I couldn’t work, she left me.”

“Was she chubby too?”

“No. She was toned and muscular. I had been turned down my many chubby girls before her, but she, for whatever reason, paid attention to me so that’s why I agreed to sleep with her.”

“How old was she?”

“About thirty-five, I guess.”

“She’s old. We’re you her first?”

“No. She had a young son. I tried to be a father figure to him, but he would stay with her parents whenever she saw me.”

“I would be honored if you gave yourself to me. Know that if we do become intimate, and it’s all up to you, I want to because I truly have feelings for you and I won’t use you and throw you away,” Annabelle gently tells me in an embrace.

“You promise?”

Annabelle nods gently.

Then I say, “I’ve been wanting to love and be loved for a very long time. You seem so perfect for me, so yes I will be intimate with you.”

“Are you sure,” She asks.

“Yes, I am sure as I’ll ever be,” I softly answer.

We then begin to slowly remove each other’s clothing and underwear, then gently become intimate. Passionately and powerfully, we make love to each other.

Annabelle says with passion, as she climaxes “Oh this is so wonderful. It’s like night and day when I compare right now and what happened when I was seven.” Her climax gets stronger and she says “I love you so much, Johnny Joseph Elder!”

I begin to climax as well and say, “I love you too, Annabelle Jenkins-both now and forever!”

“Yes, we’ll be together forever.” She says, panting and moaning with ecstasy.

Hurricane Alidore begins to get stronger and stronger as we continue to make love and climax several more times.

We collapse into the blankets and then cuddle for a while.

Suddenly the wind and rains die down. It’s the eye of the storm.

We get dressed then step out onto my porch and into my front yard.

I look at Mrs. Angela’s house and see that her lights are on. The generator her son and I connected the previous day is working. I am thankful for her sake.

Mrs. Angela steps out of her house and onto her porch and begins to talk to us, “Hello Johnny. Hello Annabelle.”

“Hi.” We reply in unison.

“I’m glad to see that y’all are all right in this storm and I’m just as glad to see that y’all are together.”

“I’m definitely glad you set us up!” I reply.

“Me too!” Annabelle adds in.

I look at my property and see that some of my roofing shingles are missing and some of the vinyl siding is gone. The stop sign at the corner near my house is also gone. There are utility poles collapsed all over the place. These winds were very strong. I know that my insurance will pay for the damage, but there is going to be a deductible. That, combined with the storm is only halfway over brings me into great distress.

Annabelle can see that I’m upset and asks, “What’s the matter bae?”

“I hope my house won’t be too badly damaged because of this storm,” I tell her.

Mrs. Angela adds in, “My house was the first on the block and it stood many hurricanes over the years. Your house was built only a few years after mine and it too stood up to many hurricanes. The only thing that happens is your roofing shingles and your siding get blown away, but those are very small potatoes.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“It’s all going to be okay. You and Annabelle just need to love each other and be good to each other in good times and bad. My husband was always good to me when he was alive and I miss him terribly to this day.”

Annabelle and I hold hands, look at each other and smile sweetly at each other.

Mrs. Angela adds in, “I think y’all should take advantage of having time alone together-if y’all get my drift.”

Annabelle adds in, “We already have and it was wonderful!”

I blush brightly.

“Well then go do it some more-there is a plethora of health benefits associated with coitus, you know!”

Annabelle giggles. I blush more.

Suddenly the winds pick up and the rain starts whipping again. The other half of Alidore is beginning.

“Go love each other!” Mrs. Angela shouts then goes inside.

Annabelle and I go inside and I bolt my front door.

She then tells me with excitement, “I think we should listen to what Mrs. Angela says, bae.”

“So do I,” I answer.

We then walk to my bedroom and begin to make love once again. We have intercourse until we are too tired to move.

Afterwards, we fall asleep in each others’ arms until the next morning…

Back to “A Disabled Electrician turned Writer”

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In the Country Part 2-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

As we enter the house, my boyfriend’s mom says, “Where’s the heating oil?”

“Right here,” He tells her and hands her the tank.

We walk to his old bedroom and he turns on the bedside lamp.

He puts a new bulb in that old rechargeable flashlight then plugs it in.

Then we sit on his bed and he unpacks the flashlight I bought for him.

He then installs the batteries and turns it on.

We are both amazed by the brightness.

“I really appreciate this gift you gave me,” He tells me as he puts it safely in his pants pocket.

“It’s the least I could do. You’ve bought me a gift,” I tell him as I point to my watch.

“But I still promise to pay you back.”

“I know you will and I am so looking forward to it!” I tell him with a sweet kiss.

His mom walks into the room and says, “So y’all have been screwing even though y’all aren’t married. How long has this been going on?”

“We don’t have to answer that,” My boyfriend says as he stands up to her.

So his mom gives an ultimatum, “Either answer me or find somewhere else to stay until the evacuation order is lifted.”

She then looks at me and continues, “How long have you been committing this serious sin?”

I break down and answer her, “Since this past Christmas Eve. I had fallen so much in love with him and I’m still in love with him, but we had just learned on the news that a world war was about to break out. I was so afraid that he would be drafted and killed in combat without us fully knowing each other. I just wanted to seal my love for him.”

My boyfriend looks at me and says, “You don’t have to explain to her or feel guilty about it.”

His mom looks angrilly at him then says, “Oh, shut your mouth. You’re going to have a lot to answer for because of the way you charmed this young girl. I don’t know where you learned to do such a thing.”

I feel the need to stand up for my boyfriend, then tell her, “He didn’t charm me at all. Yes, he does write those love stories and I find it very attractive, but I wanted him before I knew he wrote such beautiful things. I just thought he was so cute, so I started talking to him. At first, he was hesitant because of our age difference, but eventually, he fully accepted me. No one else wanted me because of my glandular problem but he loves me in spite of it, just like I love him in spite of his Autism.” I pause, then continue, “Any other time I tried to talk to someone of the opposite sex, they would make cow and pig noises, because of my weight. I’ve been dealing with that ever since I was eleven or twelve. When I told your son he was cute, I then asked him if he thought I was cute also or was I too fat and his response was that I was beautiful and not to let anyone else tell me otherwise. If he would have rejected me, I very well might have ended my life. He didn’t reject me though. In fact, he treats me better than I ever dared to dream. No one else was ever so kind to me, so I couldn’t help falling in love with him.”

My boyfriend then looks at his mom and says, “Remember how at one point I had written some stories and all the girls were impressed but their boyfriends were jealous, so they began to spread false rumors about me? I was just reminded of that today in the hardware store. It ruined my reputation hence another reason why I got out of this one horse town as soon as I was able. I’m immensely glad I moved to the city too because I met her and she brings so much joy to my life. All of the suffering I endured prior to meeting her was worth it.”

His mom then tells him, “You’re lucky those boys didn’t beat you up. Maybe they should have because then you would have learned not to write such sinful literature. All those stories do is cause their readers to have unrealistic expectations of their partners.”

I stand up for him once again and say, “He reads those stories to me all the time and I don’t have any unrealistic expectations of him, in fact, they usually make me want to love him more. My dad is going to help him get published hopefully soon and he will never have to work at his grocery job again. He is so miserable there, but he keeps the job so he can take care of me.”

His mom gets even angrier and says, sternly, “Work is supposed to be miserable to remind us that we are sinners in a fallen world. If you enjoy your work, chances or you’ll pay for it in the afterlife. Speaking of work, both of you will do chores while y’all are here to burn off all of that sinful energy. Y’all want to have the pleasures of a married couple, then y’all should have the responsibility of a married couple too.”

She looks at my boyfriend, then continues, “Go help your daddy in the fields.”

She looks at me, and says, “You will help me cook and clean.”

My boyfriend and I look at each other in distress.

His mom then says, “Go on, get to work.”

My boyfriend and I attempt to kiss each other, but his mom says, “Uh-uh, none of that.”

He sulks, then walks out the room, down the hall and out the back door.

His mom then brings me an apron and says, “Put this on and you will help me.”

Reluctantly, I put the apron on.

“I want you to sweep all the floors,” His mom says as she hands me a broom.

I never had to do this before, but for love of my boyfriend, I try my best.

I sweep each room with a hard floor, then throw the dust away.

After I am done, I sit down.

“Why are you sitting?” His mom asks angrilly.

“Because my body cannot take all this physical labor,” I plainly tell her.

“You wouldn’t have that kind of body if you grew up on a farm, all the hard work would burn off those calories.”

“Actually, I have a glandular problem. It’s not my fault.”

“God is probably punishing you for something wrong you did and judging by the speed you got into my son’s pants you’ve probably done a lot of wrong before you met him.”

“If you’re suggesting I sleep around, you’re gravely mistaken. Your son is the only one I’ve ever been intimate with and the only one I want to be intimate with. He is so kind to me, that I couldn’t help but fall in love with him and give myself to him.”

“Maybe I am wrong about you.”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Well, I apologize. I just want my son to have a good lady in his life.”

“Even though your son and I aren’t married, I’m still a lady, because I only want him and wouldn’t lay down with anyone else.”

“I have trouble trusting the city dwellers, because there is so much wickedness in the cities.”

“But our standard of living is so much higher.”

“You’re right. And that means life is easier and therefore you have more time to sin. We were meant to toil in the fields for our food and wages and if everyone lived that way, there would be no time for any sin.”

“It’s not my fault. I live in a subdivision. My dad is a business executive. I’ll admit there is a lot of sin and I can see that it is because of idle city life, but I didn’t ask to be born into this life, so it isn’t my fault.

“You’re still going to have a lot to answer for and that will affect your eternal destiny. I’d be willing to bet you’re not going to Heaven and you’re also causing my son’s spiritual life to suffer, so you will really have a lot to answer for.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?”

“Just realize that you are a sinner deserving to go to hell for eternity to pay for your sins, but a man named Jesus Christ paid that price for you. You must surrender your life to Him and follow Him daily and he will forgive all your sins, past, present and future.”

“I do realize that now. How do I surrender to Jesus Christ?”

“Talk to Him like you would talk to your best friend, invite Him into your heart to save your soul and rule your life.”

I go into my boyfriend’s old bedroom, kneel down by the bed and do what I was told.

As I pray, I feel as if all my sin and guilt has been lifted off of me, but I also feel an extremely compelling need to marry my boyfriend.

I walk out of the room.

“Has Jesus spoke to you?” His mom asks me.

“I believe He has. He keeps telling me that I need to marry your son.”

“Well, if Jesus is telling you that, I’d have to agree, but you better always treat my boy right.”

“Oh, I sure will. I don’t ever want to lose him.”

“Now, let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll teach you how to cook.”

My boyfriend’s mom takes some chicken breasts out of the refrigerator and says, “I’ll teach you how to sear these.”

She seasons them then puts them in a pan periodically flipping them.

Then she slices some potatoes and puts them with spices milk and cheese in a caserole dish, then puts them in the oven.

Then she takes some fresh green beans and bacon and places them in a pot with oil spices and water and steams them.

I carefully observe as much as possible.

This is going to be a delicious dinner.

We check on the food and stir periodically until my boyfriend and his dad come walking in from the fields.

Now we are putting the food on the table.

As we sit down to eat, we get messages that the evacuation order is lifted.

Minutes later my boyfriend’s phone rings. He goes to the old bedroom to take the call.

He walks back into the dining room, to which his mom says, “Don’t people know not to call at dinner time?”

“That was my job calling. I have to be back there in twenty-four hours, so we have to leave as soon as we are finished eating. I have a five-hour drive ahead of me and I’ll also need to be rested up.”

“Translation you want to go back home and screw your girlfriend,” His mom says.

“Honey, for the last time, don’t be so hard on him. He’s very lucky to have her.” His dad interjects.

“And I am just as lucky to have him!” I speak up.

“Fine do whatever you want.” His mom says with irritation.

His dad sees us out and says, “She’ll eventually come around, especially if y’all get married which, I think, y’all need to strongly consider.”

That echoes what God has been telling me as well.

My boyfriend and I nod, then he opens the car door for me and I step in.

He then gets in on the driver side and we head back to the city.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

In the Country Part 1-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

My boyfriend and I wake up in his old bedroom at his parents’ house in the country.

We are very cold, so he steps out of bed to check the thermostat.

It is even colder with him out of the bed so I tell him, “Come back to bed and keep me warm.”

“I’m coming right now,” He replies.

We hold each other until the hunger pangs get the better of us.

Slowly we walk to the kitchen.

His mom is putting pancakes and bacon on the table.

The silence is awkward and tense as we eat.

At one point, my boyfriend says, “I think the furnace is broken.”

“No, it just needs more oil. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go to the hardware store and pick some up?” His mom tells him coldly.

He then looks at his watch and asks her, “Does it still open at eight in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re going right now. I have to get a new bulb for my flashlight anyway.”

“Charge the oil to your dad’s account,” His mom says in a cut and dry tone.

We get our coats then walk to my boyfriend’s old car.

He opens the passenger door for me, to which I step in, then he enters the driver’s side and we leave.

We drive into town and arrive at the hardware store just as it is opening.

There is a long line, so my boyfriend browses around.

Suddenly, my phone rings. The caller ID shows that it is my dad, so I go into a corner of the store and take the call.

“Hi Daddy.”

“Hello princess. I understand there was a terrorist attack. Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m fine. My boyfriend and I evacuated to his parents’ house in the country.”

“Good. I’m glad you found him and I’m glad you’re with him because he is a really good young man.”

“And he loves me. Well I love him too, you know.”

“Yes, I know and I’m so happy for you princess.”

“We would have gone to your house, but I knew mom would be on edge.”

“I know. It is also your eighteenth birthday, which your mother totally missed out on because of her addiction. I hope that could be a wake up call to her. I doubt you’re enjoying it, but I hope there was some goodness to your birthday.”

“Yes, before all this happened my boyfriend bought me dinner.”

“Well we are going to throw you a party at some point and I want him there too.”

“Okay, Daddy that will be good.”

“Where are you now.”

“I’m at a hardware store in the country. My boyfriend is picking up some oil for his parents’ heater.”

“Well keep in touch with me and call if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

“Now I have to go check on your mother, so let me go.”

“Okay Daddy.”

“Let me know when you’re back in the city.”

“All right.”

“Bye princess an Happy Birthday.”

“Bye Daddy and thank you.”

I hang up the phone and go browse around the store with my boyfriend.

Finally someone waits on us.

He and my boyfriend converse, “Long time no see. What can I get for you?”

“As many First Alert Ready-Lite bulbs as possible and some heating oil.”

“First Alert Ready-Lite, that’s something you don’t hear of anymore.”

“Well, it came with the house I bought in the city.”

“Wasn’t there a terrorist attack there last night?”

“There sure was. We were ordered to evacuate and here we are.”

“That’s a drag. I enjoyed living in the city when I played football at the university on scholarship, but then I was injured and my career was over. Now I work for my dad’s hardware company and try to be the best salesman I can be.”

“It’s a shame how something that happens in an instant can alter a person’s life.”

“Well, I guess it’s for the best. At least you can return to the city when the evacuation is lifted.”

“Yes but to a God-awful job.”

“Where do you work?”

“The Downtown Grocer.”

“Oh yes, I’ve seen their commercials on TV.”

“Don’t let the commercials fool you, they are dirty people. I hate working for them. I’d really like to be a writer.”

“You always did. Some of my teammates knew how their girlfriends were impressed by your writings and were very jealous, so they began to spread false rumors about you.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that. Can we not re-live it? You should have the oil, which I’ll be charging to my dad’s account. Do you have the bulbs or not? If you do, I’ll be paying cash.”

The clerk checks the computer, then says “I have five packs of bulbs left in stock.”

“I’ll take all five,” My boyfriend clearly says.

The clerk then suggests to my boyfriend, “Could I interest you in a Mini Maglite LED flashlight instead? It runs for five hours on 2 AAA batteries and gives off 111 lumens. Your Ready Lite’s battery only lasts about an hour and there might not be any electricity available at your house to charge it up again.”

“Man it sure sounds tempting, but I don’t have enough cash for both the First Alert bulbs and the Mini Maglite.”

“Charge it to your parents’ account.”

“They’d be livid if I did.”

I then tell my boyfriend, “I’ll pay for that flashlight with my grocery money.”

“Baby, you don’t have to do that.”

I put my finger on his lips and say, “But I want to, because I can tell you’d really it. You can pay me back for it the same way you plan to pay me back for the gas money-all night long! Don’t think I haven’t been keeping track!”

He blushes, then I kiss him lovingly.

“All right baby, you know my payment is good,” He tells me.

He looks at the clerk and says, “Charge the oil to my parents’ account. I’ll pay cash for the bulbs and…”

“I’ll pay for that flashlight with my debit card,” I interject.

“Thank you, baby!” He tells me. He then holds me by my waist and kisses my head.

After our items are paid for, we leave the store.

He opens the passenger door for me and I kiss him as I step in.

He then gets in on the driver side and is about to start the car when his phone rings.

“Hello,” “What do you mean?” “Who called exactly?” “No, people need to mind their own business, that’s one of the reasons why I got out of the godforsaken country and moved to the city.” “But it was a blessing to me!” “Because it was a strategic target.” “Whatever you say.” “All right I am coming.”

He then hangs up.

My boyfriend starts his car and begins to head to his parents’ house when I ask him, “What’s the matter?”

He then tells me, “Now I am not mad at you at all. However, when you are in a small town you need to watch what you say and do in public because everyone is always watching and they are all busybodies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Several people overheard us talking about the flashlight you bought me and how I plan to pay it back. They called my mom and now she is even more angry with us.”

“Oh, my God, what have I done?”

“Don’t beat yourself up, baby. It’s not your fault, you’ve probably never been to a small town, so you just didn’t know that the people would be watching much less how they’d react.”

“I feel terrible, but I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at all. In fact, your awesome combination of kindness and naughtiness turns me on so much that I plan to pay you back all night long and with interest compounded nightly included and tips.”

“I love you so much!”

“And I love you just as much! Now, what did your dad call you for?”

“He was just making sure we were all right because of the terrorist attack and that he’s glad I was with you instead of my mom.”

“That’s a relief. I know you’re eighteen now, but I still want to stay on his good side.”

“Just love me like you do now and I think he’ll have no problems with you.”

We are now pulling into the driveway and his mom is about to confront us.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

In the Country Part 2-Grocer and Writer (Guy’s Perspective)

We enter the house and my momma says, “Where’s the heating oil?”

“Right here,” I tell her then hand her the tank.

We walk to my old bedroom and I turn on the bedside lamp.

I put a new bulb in my Ready-Lite. It works again and I’m satisfied. I plug it into the wall socket to charge.

We sit on my old bed and I cut my new flashlight out of the blister packaging. I then install the batteries and turn it on.

My girlfriend and I are amazed by the brightness.

“I really appreciate this gift you gave me,” I tell her, placing it in my pants pocket.

“It’s the least I could do. You’ve bought me a gift.” She says, pointing to her Baby G watch.

“But I still promise to pay you back.”

“I know you will and I am so looking forward to it!” She tells me with a sweet kiss.

My momma walks into the room and says, “So y’all have been screwing even though y’all aren’t married. How long has this been going on?”

“We don’t have to answer that.”

“Either answer me or find somewhere else to stay until the evacuation order is lifted.”

My mom then looks at my girlfriend and continues, “How long have you been committing this serious sin?”

My girlfriend breaks down and answers, “Since this past Christmas Eve. I had fallen so much in love with him and I’m still in love with him, but we had just learned on the news that a world war was about to break out. I was so afraid that he would be drafted and killed in combat without us fully knowing each other. I just wanted to seal my love for him.”

I look at my girlfriend and say, “You don’t have to explain to her or feel guilty about it.”

My mom looks at me angrily then says, “Oh, shut your mouth. You’re going to have a lot to answer for because of the way you charmed this young girl. I don’t know where you learned to do such a thing.”

My girlfriend then says, “He didn’t charm me at all. Yes, he does write those love stories and I find it very attractive, but I wanted him before I knew he wrote such beautiful things. I just thought he was so cute, so I started talking to him. At first, he was hesitant because of our age difference, but eventually, he fully accepted me. No one else wanted me because of my glandular problem but he loves me in spite of it, just like I love him in spite of his Autism.” My girlfriend pauses, then continue, “Any other time I tried to talk to someone of the opposite sex, they would make cow and pig noises, because of my weight. I’ve been dealing with that ever since I was eleven or twelve. When I told your son he was cute, I then asked him if he thought I was cute also or was I too fat and his response was that I was beautiful and not to let anyone else tell me otherwise. If he would have rejected me, I very well might have ended my life. He didn’t reject me though. In fact, he treats me better than I ever dared to dream. No one else was ever so kind to me, so I couldn’t help falling in love with him.”

I then look at my momma and say, “Remember how at one point I had written some stories and all the girls were impressed but their boyfriends were jealous, so they began to spread false rumors about me? I was just reminded of that today in the hardware store. It ruined my reputation hence another reason why I got out of this one horse town as soon as I was able. I’m immensely glad I moved to the city too because I met her and she brings so much joy to my life. All of the suffering I endured prior to meeting her was worth it.”

“You’re lucky those boys didn’t beat you up. Maybe they should have because then you would have learned not to write such sinful literature. All those stories do is cause their readers to have unrealistic expectations of their partners.”

My girlfriend then says, “He reads those stories to me all the time and I don’t have any unrealistic expectations of him, in fact, they usually make me want to love him more. My dad is going to help him get published hopefully soon and he will never have to work at his grocery job again. He is so miserable there, but he keeps the job so he can take care of me.”

My momma sternly says, “Work is supposed to be miserable to remind us that we are sinners in a fallen world. If you enjoy your work, chances or you’ll pay for it in the afterlife. Speaking of work, both of you will do chores while y’all are here to burn off all of that sinful energy. Y’all want to have the pleasures of a married couple, then y’all should have the responsibility of a married couple too.”

She looks at me and then continues, “Go help your daddy in the fields.”

She then looks at my girlfriend and says, “You will help me cook and clean.”

My girlfriend and I look at each other in distress.

My momma then says, “Go on, get to work.”

My girlfriend and I attempt to kiss each other, but my momma says, “Uh-uh, none of that.”

I sulk, then walk out the room, down the hall and out the back door.

I walk through the fields looking for my dad.

It’s cold and damp so I walk to the barn. I enter and turn my new flashlight on.

Suddenly, I hear my dad’s voice, “Wow that flashlight sure is bright for being so small. Where did you get it?”

“My girlfriend bought it for me at the hardware store.”

“That was awful nice of her.”

My dad pauses, then continue, “You’re very lucky to have her, so do everything in your power to keep her.”

“Believe me, I will. I love her so much.”

“She obviously loves you too! It’s as if our prayers have been answered.”

“Y’all have been praying that I find someone.”

“Both me and your momma.”

“Well, then why is she so angry at me?”

“She just doesn’t like to see you all grown up, that is all.”

“You’re probably going to get an earful from several folks in town about my girlfriend and I fornicating.”

“Who are they to judge? How many of them have committed the much worse sin of adultery? We’re all sinners, that’s why Christ went to the Cross, to begin with. I’ve told you that all your life. Now if you did fornicate with this girl and you do indeed love her, then, y’all must get married as soon as possible.”

“Believe me I would if I could afford a decent ring.”

“At least your heart is in the right place, just think of how many young men your age would screw a girl and then leave her the next day.”

“I would never dream of doing that to her. I want her by my side forever!”

“She’s a keeper, that’s for sure. And she bought you that flashlight, I think it is at least as bright as the screw top lantern I keep in here.”

“You still have that old lantern?”

“It’s in here somewhere. I remember you used to come in here to play with it when you were small. I told you to not turn on the main bulb because it runs down the battery quickly, but you could turn the red signal light on.”

My dad reaches into the dark corner of the barn, retrieves the old lantern and hands it to me.

“I always wanted to do some research about this lantern online, but there was no model number written on it that I could remember.”

“I think it is an Energizer 231, or something like that, but I’m not sure. A new battery costs more than the lantern itself these days. So what brings you here?”

“Momma insists that I do chores and she told me to help you with whatever you’re doing.”

“Well the soybean planting is coming up next month, so I’m trying to get all of my equipment in good working order.”

“So what would you want me to do to help you?”

“Well, I have to change the oil and fluids in my tractor and I could always use a hand with that. First of all, go to the breaker panel and turn the lights on.”

“I’m on it.”

I turn the barn lights on, then ask my dad, “Are they still on the shelving unit I made in shop class?”

“They sure are, of course, it might not be as organized as it was when you lived here.”

“I guess that’s one of my more beneficial quirks.”

“You call it a quirk, but I find it useful. I also always appreciated how you were like a walking talking encyclopedia.”

“Well there is one quirk that I have been trying my best not to do and that is yelling at selfish drivers. It takes every ounce of strength in me not to do it though.”

“Oh, I remember how mad you used to get when you were behind the wheel and someone didn’t drive right. What’s made you change?”

“The desire to not use coarse language in front of my girlfriend; I’ve never uttered a single curse word in her presence and I hope to God that I never will.

“You’ve come a long way, because I always knew when the computer was giving trouble, by hearing you curse.”

“Well, when I was trying to write stories or read online articles and the computer would crash at the worst possible time.”

“Yes or if you were listening to the radio during a thunderstorm.”

“Momma would say that the more I would curse the more God would make the lightning flash.”

“I didn’t agree with her saying that and I was always worried that she would turn you off to God.”

“For years I was turned off to Him until I realized how much of a sinner I truly was and how He loved me in spite of it and the great lengths He went to in order to save me. It’s basically what you’ve taught me all these years.”

“Well I’d like to think I did something right, now come on, let’s get those fluids changed. I need that gallon jug of transmission and hydraulic fluid and every quart bottle of the 20 weight oil on the shelf.”

I retrieve the fluid and oil.

My dad then says, “Now go get two five gallon buckets, one to put the spent transmission and hydraulic fluid and the other to put the spent oil.”

“It’s illegal to dump these,” I tell him.

“I don’t dump them. I save them and I use them to coat all of my tools to keep them from rusting. It’s cheaper than buying all those fancy lubricants.”

“Wow, I never thought to do that.”

“It’s an old trick of the farming trade.”

My dad opens up the access points on his tractor then drains the oils and fluids into the buckets.

Afterwards, he pours the new oil and fluids into the tractor then puts new filters on.

He starts up the tractor and says, “Purrs like a kitten, she does.”

“That was quick. I’m sure momma won’t let me off this easy, so what else can I do to help you?”

“You can organize the whole barn like you did when you were a little boy. It’s gotten in disarray since you moved out.”

“My Autism never seemed to bother you.”

“Well, that’s because your momma and I tried to have kids for years, but couldn’t. Then finally she was in her late thirties and I was almost fifty, but I produced you and she carried you to term and we were glad to have you. I read that a man’s seed changes as he gets older and it can cause his offspring to have some issues, but I always thought you were an awesome kid and looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I just hope you’ll give me some grandchildren soon and I don’t care whether they are Autistic or not.”

“That means you’re now in your early seventies. Why don’t you retire?”

“I’m waiting for your momma to turn sixty-five, then I won’t have to pay so much for her health insurance because Medicare will kick in. Then we can sell the farm and buy a condominium in the city-yeah right your momma wouldn’t stand for it. ” He pauses, then continues, “Anyways, organize this barn really well and by the time your done supper should be on the table, or dinner as you city people refer to it.”

I get to work. The barn has definitely become unorganized since I moved out, but I can put a fix to that.

I begin by hanging all of the tools in their proper places, on the nails, I hammered into the wall as a child.

Then I organize the fertilizer chemicals not only by alphabet but elemental and molecular values. I also put them neatly in rows.

After that, I take the gasoline and diesel cans, consolidate them and place them near the vent.

I see several cutting blades and realize they are dull, so I take a file and sharpen them.

I look at my watch which indicates that it is 5:45 in the evening. The sun is almost set.

I tighten all of the loose screws on the barn’s doors and walls and finally the breaker panel.

I stack the bags of seeds neatly, then shut off the lights and lock the barn door.

By the light of my flashlight, my dad and I walk back to the house.

We walk in to find my momma and my girlfriend both putting supper on the table.

We are having seared chicken breasts, scalloped potatoes, and steamed green beans.

We sit down to eat, when suddenly both my phone and my girlfriend’s phone display a message of the evacuation order being lifted.

Minutes later, my phone rings.

It’s my workplace number, so I go into my old bedroom and take the call.

“Hello,” I answer.

The assistant store director is on the other end and says, “Okay your time off is over now, the evacuation has been lifted. Come back to work PDQ.”

“I’m out of town, I had no place to go when the train was derailed.”

“Then you have twenty-four hours from the end of this phone call to report back to work. If you don’t, your butt will be terminated.”

“Yes, sir,” I humbly reply.

I walk back into the dining room, to which my mom says, “Don’t people know not to call at dinner time?”

“That was my job calling. I have to be back there in twenty-four hours, so we have to leave as soon as we are finished eating. I have a five-hour drive ahead of me and I’ll also need to be rested up.”

“Translation you want to go back home and screw your girlfriend,” My mom says.

“Honey, for the last time, don’t be so hard on him. He’s very lucky to have her.”

“And I am just as lucky to have him!” My girlfriend speaks up.

“Fine do whatever you want.” My momma says with irritation.

We finish eating, then collect my things and leave.

My dad sees us out and says, “She’ll eventually come around, especially if y’all get married which, I think, y’all need to strongly consider.”

My girlfriend and I look at each other and nod, then I open the passenger door for her.

I then get in on the driver’s side, start my car and we head back to the city.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

In the Country Part 1-Grocer and Writer (Guy’s Perspective)

My girlfriend and I wake up in each other’s arms shivering. Once I am fully awake and realize we are at my parents’ house in the country, I step out of bed, retrieve my rechargeable flashlight and walk to the thermostat.

I switch my flashlight on, to which the bulb burns out instantly.

So I activate the light switch for the hall light and read the thermostat.

Quickly I realize the furnace isn’t working.

“Come back to bed and keep me warm,” My girlfriend tells me.

“I’m coming right now,” I reply.

We hold each other until the hunger pangs get the better of us.

Slowly we walk to the kitchen.

My mom is putting pancakes and bacon on the table.

We eat in an awkward and tense silence.

I decide to break the silence and say, “I think the furnace is broken.”

“No, it just needs more oil. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go to the hardware store and pick some up?”

I look at my watch, which indicates 7:56 AM, and ask her, “Does it still open at eight in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re going right now. I have to get a new bulb for my flashlight anyway.”

“Charge the oil to your dad’s account,” My mom says in a cut and dry tone.

My girlfriend and I get our coats, then we walk to my old Toyota.

I unlock the doors, then open the passenger door for her. Afterwards, I get in on the driver’s side and start my engine.

We drive into town and arrive at the hardware store just as it is opening.

There is a long line, so I browse around.

My girlfriend’s phone rings, so she walks into a corner and takes the call. I hear her talking to her dad.

I continue to browse around and my girlfriend get’s off the phone and walks around the store with me.

Finally, a clerk serves us. He was a classmate of mine in high school.

“Long time no see. What can I get for you?”

“As many First Alert Ready-Lite bulbs as possible and some heating oil.”

“First Alert Ready-Lite, that’s something you don’t hear of anymore.”

“Well, it came with the house I bought in the city.”

“Wasn’t there a terrorist attack there last night?”

“There sure was. We were ordered to evacuate and here we are.”

“That’s a drag. I enjoyed living in the city when I played football at the university on scholarship, but then I was injured and my career was over. Now I work for my dad’s hardware company and try to be the best salesman I can be.”

“It’s a shame how something that happens in an instant can alter a person’s life.”

“Well, I guess it’s for the best. At least you can return to the city when the evacuation is lifted.”

“Yes but to a God-awful job.”

“Where do you work?”

“The Downtown Grocer.”

“Oh yes, I’ve seen their commercials on TV.”

“Don’t let the commercials fool you, they are dirty people. I hate working for them. I’d really like to be a writer.”

“You always did. Some of my teammates knew how their girlfriends were impressed by your writings and were very jealous, so they began to spread false rumors about you.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that. Can we not re-live it? You should have the oil, which I’ll be charging to my dad’s account. Do you have the bulbs or not? If you do, I’ll be paying cash.”

The clerk checks the computer, then says, “I have five packs of bulbs left in stock.”

“I’ll take all five.”

“Could I interest you in a Mini Maglite LED flashlight instead? It runs for five hours on 2 AAA batteries and gives off 111 lumens. Your Ready Lite’s battery only lasts about an hour and there might not be any electricity available at your house to charge it up again.”

“Man it sure sounds tempting, but I don’t have enough cash for both the First Alert bulbs and the Mini Maglite.”

“Charge it to your parents’ account.”

“They’d be livid if I did.”

My girlfriend then says, “I’ll pay for that flashlight with my grocery money.”

“Baby, you don’t have to do that.”

She puts her finger to my lips and says, “But I want to, because I can tell you’d really it. You can pay me back for it the same way you plan to pay me back for the gas money-all night long! Don’t think I haven’t been keeping track!”

I blush, then she kisses me, lovingly.

“All right baby, you know my payment is good,” I tell her.

Several people in the store whisper to each other, then point and stare at us.

I look at the clerk and say, “Charge the oil to my parents’ account. I’ll pay cash for the bulbs and…”

“I’ll pay for that flashlight with my debit card,” My girlfriend interjects.

“Thank you, baby!” I tell her then wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her head.

The people in the store begin to whisper again.

After our items are paid for, we leave the store.

I open the passenger door for her and she kisses me as she steps in.

Then I get in the driver side and I am about to start my car when my phone rings.

It’s my parent’s house phone number, so I take the call.

“Hello,” I answer.

My mom is on the other end and she angrily asks me, “You want to tell me why you and your girlfriend were acting lewd in the hardware store?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. Several people called me and said how she bought you a flashlight and she expects you to pay her back all night long. They all know what that means and it’s disgusting and embarrassing.”

“Who called exactly?”

“That is none of your business because if I tell you, you will mouth off to them and embarrass me more.”

“No, people need to mind their own business, that’s one of the reasons why I got out of the godforsaken country and moved to the city.”

“And I curse the day you moved there too because it ruined your life.”

“But it was a blessing to me!”

“Then why was there a terrorist attack in your city?”

“Because it was a strategic target.”

“No, it was God punishing all of you city dwellers for your wicked ways.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Lose that attitude son and come home with the oil, it’s freezing in this house.”

“All right I am coming.”

We hang up.

I start my car then put it in gear as my girlfriend asks me, “What’s the matter?”

Soberly, I begin to explain, “Now I am not mad at you at all. However, when you are in a small town you need to watch what you say and do in public because everyone is always watching and they are all busybodies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Several people overheard us talking about the flashlight you bought me and how I plan to pay it back. They called my mom and now she is even more angry with us.”

“Oh, my God, what have I done?”

“Don’t beat yourself up, baby. It’s not your fault, you’ve probably never been to a small town, so you just didn’t know that the people would be watching much less how they’d react.”

“I feel terrible, but I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at all. In fact, your awesome combination of kindness and naughtiness turns me on so much that I plan to pay you back all night long and with interest compounded nightly included and tips.”

“I love you so much!”

“And I love you just as much! Now, what did your dad call you for?”

“He was just making sure we were all right because of the terrorist attack and that he’s glad I was with you instead of my mom.”

“That’s a relief. I know you’re eighteen now, but I still want to stay on his good side.”

“Just love me like you do now and I think he’ll have no problems with you.”

With that, we pull up in my parents’ driveway and are confronted by my momma.

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

Her 18th Birthday-Grocer and Writer (Guy’s Perspective)

Good Lord, it’s cold tonight, but at least it is dry. What do you expect for early February? That’s all right, because I have someone to keep me warm. I leave work and head to my girlfriend’s parents’ house. Tomorrow is special for her-she’ll turn eighteen! The air conditioning in my car is shot, but at least the heater functions well. I leave the parking garage and head to the suburbs. Now I am entering the subdivision and approaching the house. As I turn into the driveway, my headlights illuminate her stature. She is shivering. I wish she wouldn’t wait outside for me in the wretched cold, but it speaks volumes of her love for me.

I step out of my car and we embrace.

“Let’s get you warm.” I tell her.

“Good idea!” She replies as her teeth chatter.

With that we step into my car and drive off quietly. The sun is now set-all we have are the city lights.

There is a brief silence, but then I say “I know what tomorrow is!”

“Yes, I’ll be free! My parents’ll no longer have power over me!” She replies.

“Now you know your dad is good to us.”

“Yes, he is. But my mom is a lunatic. No longer will I hear her raging about her stupid pills again.”

“Do they know that we’ve been intimate?” I ask.

“No, they don’t-and that is a good thing. It won’t even matter after the stroke of midnight.”

“That’s a relief. I know your dad likes me, but how he would react if he knew?”

“Well, I can make him feel guilty about not being around if he indeed got angry.”

We drive into the city and into my neighborhood and are now in front of my house. I park my car against the curb and escort her through my yard, closing the hurricane fence behind us. As usual, my neighbors are rolling and smoking joints. I detest the abominable smell of that smoke. However, if I reported them, they would retaliate in many horrendous ways. I am also afraid how they might try to harm my girlfriend if they ever found out she is alone in my house while I work. Because of this, I have already installed several extra locks on my doors and I’ll also buy her some Mace.

Quickly we walk into the door and sit down on my sofa. I turn on the local news and learn of the whole country being on high alert for a terrorist attack. This makes me fear for the safety of everyone I care about. I wonder about my family in the countryside and if they are prepared. Being drafted off to war also frightens me.

“Let’s turn this miserable thing off and think about us!” She says.

“Very well.” I say, switch off the TV, then continue “Would you like to eat something?”

“Sure.” She replies.

“I will order something for delivery. What do you feel like?”

“Something Asian, I guess.”

“Done.”

I begin to look through my telephone directory, when she says, pointing to her smartphone “Wait, I have an app for ordering it on here.”

She places the order, and we sit on my sofa. She rests her head on my chest.

Soon enough, there is a knock at the door. It is the delivery man. I pay him and he gives us the food, then I escort him back to his car.

We take the food to my dining room and eat. There cold air is coming through my drafty windows, so I turn my floor furnace on. It is located in the middle of my house, so, hopefully, it should keep us warm.

She motions for me to sit and continue eating with her. I do so, staring at her with admiration. Soon we are finished eating.

“Asian food makes me sleepy. Let’s snuggle together!” She says.

“Right behind you, baby!” I reply.

We walk to my bedroom and wrap ourselves in the blankets.

Our sleep is peaceful, until she wakes up from the whistle of a freight train.

Her jerking wakes me up and then I hear the train as well.

She looks at the clock on her phone. It indicates 12:01 AM.

“I am eighteen now!” She exclaims, wrapping herself around me.

Suddenly, there are some horrible sounds. It’s a grinding and squealing, followed by several loud explosions. Then, I hear the motor on my old refrigerator shut off. I push the switch on my bedside lamp but it doesn’t turn on. The power is out. My girlfriend reaches for her phone to light up the room.

“Let me go to the kitchen. I have a rechargeable flashlight there plugged in between the refrigerator and the stove.”

“Go get it, but after let’s keep snuggling.”

“Of course. You know I don’t want to be anywhere but in your arms.” I tell her, retrieve my light then climb back in bed.

“We can stay together now because I am legal!”

I give her a kiss, but I am full of anxiety.

Suddenly, our phones display messages of a civil emergency.

A few minutes later there is a knock on my door. I open it.

A policeman greets me and sternly says “You must leave immediately! There has been a train derailment which resulted in a chemical release.”

I ponder to myself if this was a terrorist attack…

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”

A Review of the STREAMLIGHT JR® LED FLASHLIGHT

By the way, I don’t own the featured image. It is property of Streamlight Inc…

The Streamlight Junior has been in production since 1988 and I believe was Streamlight’s answer to the Mini Maglite.

I believe in the late 2000’s an LED version was put on the market.

And then in the mid to late 2010’s an improved LED version was again put on the market, with a better switch system, more robust pocket clip and brighter light engine.

There was a 130 Lumen version and a 225 Lumen version of this latest incarnation of the Streamlight Junior. I’m not sure which one I currently own. According to website specs, it runs on two AA Alkaline or Lithium batteries. It has a battery life of six hours and a physical length of 6.5 inches, long enough to be located easily but short enough to be carried even when travelling light.

I was in the market for a tactical LED flashlight in April of 2018 and I bought my first Streamlight Junior LED. I was immediately impressed by the performance. I later sold it in October of 2018 because I needed the money.

I had missed that flashlight a lot, so in January of 2019, I purchased another Streamlight Junior LED flashlight and I have been pretty much EDCing it ever since.

It is almost constantly in my right pants pocket or somewhere otherwise nearby.

I’m not sure if mine is the 130 or the 225 Lumen version, but in the words of my ninety something Paternal Grandmother, it’s a “powerful” flashlight. I visit her frequently, especially since her husband, my Paw Paw had passed away. I think I inherited my flashlight interest from him.

She is definitely right about that, it is indeed powerful.

And the battery runtime is pretty generous considering the brightness.

The other night, I was assisting a friend who was working on my car late into the evening and my trusty Streamlight Junior was our light source. It gave us useful light for hours on end. We worked well before and past sunset and until the hour of 11 PM, and I still had useful light being emitted from the LED engine. I had used it daily on the same set of batteries prior to that.

Another example of when this flashlight went above and beyond was back in April or May of 2018 when I was trying to locate the house number of some potential troublemakers at night to warn their location to someone I cared about in order to stay away from them. I was able to see the house number from my car at night and operating the tactically correct flashlight was easy as pie, even in a moving vehicle on a narrow winding road.

Speaking of protecting people I care about from trouble makers; if I purchase another firearm, it will be a Ruger Lightweight Compact Revolver, which would be a frequent companion to my Streamlight Junior when and where I am legally able to do so.

I don’t see any design flaws of this flashlight at all and I have owned one on and off for over a year.

Even though it has plenty of battle scars from everyday use, I trust it 100% to light up any situation.

I do have but one complaint and it is:
Why can’t this flashlight be made in the USA?

Of course the Chinese are getting closer and closer to American or even German quality at producing high performance flashlights.

Of course Streamlight is an American company that outsources foreign labor and can actually be traced back to the 1968 Kel Lite which was the original line of tactical flashlights.

It does, sadly outperform all LED versions of its main competitor, the American-made Mini Maglite, I’m ashamed to admit because that is my favorite flashlight.

Since I have no true complaints about this flashlight, I give it five out of five stars and it is right here in my right front pocket as I write this review.

Back to “Product Reviews”