Beating Percussion Sounds With My Hands

Dearest Readers:

Yes, I know. I haven’t written or posted anything in months. I plan to share that story later — perhaps titled ‘MOVING — A COMEDY OF ERRORS!’

I promise. That story will be shared; however, today, I have a strange piece of humor to share. You might laugh until you ache!

Last night – in the early morning hours just before dawn, I awaken hearing a boom, crashing sound by the new house. I sit up curious as to what was going on outside.

I rush to the ladies room, deciding to go outside to see what happened. Still half asleep, I open the back door. I do not check to see if it is still locked. After all, I left the door open! Gusting winds are creating a graceful ballet of swaying trees dancing all around me. Tall pine trees. Oaks. Magnolias. Sycamore. All are dancing such a beautiful ballet.

From the porch I admire this beautiful dance of nature. Suddenly, I hear SLAM! The back door closed. Uh. Oh!

I’m locked out of my house and it is still dark outside. What? Do? I? Do?

I jiggle the door handle. LOCKED!

Deciding to knock on the door, I realize Phil is sound asleep. He will not awaken.

I make fists of my hands, knocking on the door. Of course, no one responds, and so I decide to knock with a rhythmic method of percussion.

Bang Bang. Knock Knock. Bang de Bang. Bang de Bang.Bang de Bang. Bang de Bang.

Stopping because my fingers ache, I glance outside. The motion lights are on and it is still so dark. What do I do now?

Of course, my cell phone is inside the house, charging. I continue banging.

The only thing I know to do now, is either continue banging, hoping Phil just might hear something, or I can go outside into the gusting winds and rain and get on the front porch and ring the doorbell. HUMPH! I doubt he’ll hear the doorbell, so I continue my rhythmic drumming until my fingers are throbbing.

Stepping onto the porch steps, I shake my hands so they’ll stop hurting from the drumming.

Something tells me not to step into the dark of night. Again, I drum the sound of percussion from my fingertips and hands.

Maybe I should pray!

I flex my fingertips. Dear God, please let Phil hear me. Maybe he’ll come check on me to see if I’m ok. He knows I sleep on the sofa now since I can’t get comfortable in bed due to this aching back. My back brace is inside. My back will start hurting if I continue standing here. Please, dear God, let him hear me.

I’m still standing on the porch, dressed in leggings and shorty PJ’s and socks. If I step outside to walk around to the front of the house I’ll be soaked. Just what do I do now? My back hurts.

Please dear God, awaken Phil.

As I turn away to step outside, I drum on the glass once more. The hall light comes on! God is helping me!

I see Phil standing by the sofa. I knock on the glass again, beating a rhythm of HELP! help. HELP!

Phil opens the back door. I practically jump into his arms. Thank you! Thank you. You heard me!

He yawns. “What are you doing out here?”

I heard a noise so I wanted to check. The gusting winds shut the back door, locking me out.

I walked to the sofa, rubbing my aching back. Phil tucks me in. It is 5:15 am. Still so dark!

Phil decides since he is awake, he might as well go to work, provided I’m OK. He touches me. I moan, anxious to fall back to sleep.

I kissed him, touching his face. Thank you for rescuing me, again!

Published by barbiepc

Barbie Perkins-Cooper is a talented award-winning writer of screenplays, plays, and travel stories and she works full-time as an editorial photojournalist. Barbie has published numerous articles and award-winning photographs for regional, trade, health and beauty, hospitality and travel publications including the Travel Channel, Buick B Magazine, AAA Midwest Traveler, Kentucky Monthly, Southern Hospitality, Blue Ridge Country Magazine, Convention South and Texas Co-op Power and New York Daily News. Her passion for food and hospitality began when she worked as a communications officer, public relations officer at Johnson & Wales University in 1988. Residing in Charleston, South Carolina, Barbie is the author of Career Diary of a Photographer, and Condition of Limbo. She has written seven screenplays, and has a passion for screenwriting, hoping to see her name in the credits of a major motion picture. In September 2007, she was chosen as an approved artist for literary arts with the SC Arts Commission Arts in Education Roster of Approved Artists. Professional organizations include membership with International Food and Wine and Travel Writers Association [IFWTWA]; American Society of Journalists and Authors [ASJA]; Society of Professional Journalists,, and South Carolina Writers Workshop [SCWW]. Visit her web site for further information and writing clips or e-mail her at

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