Storm Vitamins

Sarah stared at the amber bottle in her hand—Vitamin D3, 5000 IU, the doctor's orders after the bloodwork came back borderline deficient. At 42, she'd thought she was past the age where her body would surprise her, but here she was, popping pills like an elderly grandmother.

The thunderstorm outside her apartment window had been raging for hours. Lightning fractured the sky every few minutes, illuminating the empty space beside her in bed. Three years since David left, and she still slept on her side.

Her phone buzzed. Mark, the guy from accounting who'd been flirting with her since the holiday party. 'Coffee tomorrow?'

She hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Another lightning flash, closer this time. The building shook. Her palm went suddenly cold, a physical memory of how David used to hold her hand during storms.

'type of weather to be out,' she typed instead, deleting and retyping three times before hitting send.

'Me anyway. Pick you up at 8?'

Sarah set the phone down and swallowed another vitamin. The glass of water on her nightstand rippled with the next thunderclap. She thought about how her life had become a series of supplements—compensations for things she lacked: iron, vitamin D, omega-3s, connection, courage.

Outside, lightning struck so close the hairs on her arms stood up. For a second, everything was blindingly white. When her vision cleared, she realized she was gripping her phone so hard her palm ached.

She'd been waiting for lightning to strike her life again, something dramatic and undeniable to shake her out of this half-existence. But maybe that wasn't how it worked. Maybe you had to manufacture your own electricity.

Sarah typed back: '8 works. See you then.'

She placed the vitamin bottle on her nightstand and turned out the light. Another lightning flash, but this time she didn't flinch. Let it storm. She'd be ready.