It was one of those days. A bad hair day to end all bad hair days. Looking at the devastation in his driveway, Michael reflected that at least no one had been close by at the time. They would surely have been killed by the falling chimney.
The lightning strike itself had been bad enough. The paramedics called by worried neighbours had been quite reassuring: his hearing would come back completely after a few hours. The firemen had covered the holes in the roof with a canvas sheet. The small amount of the chimney breastwork that had fallen through inside the house had missed anything of importance, but it had taken down several ceilings on the way. The torrential rain accompanying the summer storm had done the rest all on its own.
Mikes mobile phone vibrated again. It was the garage, confirming his address.
"Just find the house with the green cover over the roof, the missing chimney, and the wrecked car in the driveway."
He could barely hear the guy over the ringing in his ...
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