Stormbound

Mark sat in the break room, the taste of burnt coffee fading as silence pressed in. Rain tapped against the windows, and the garage buzzed on without him. Then the radio crackled — a weather alert from Texas, warning of a storm brewing south of Port Arthur. Nothing unusual for the time of year. He barely listened. Cal walked in with a grin and a joke about a busted Transit, but his tone shifted fast. “You alright, mate?” Mark dodged the question, but Cal didn’t let up. “You were always there for me. Let me return the favour.” That cracked something in Mark. He finally opened up — about Kara’s constant stress, the guilt over losing his dad, the fear of losing Jamie. About drowning in everyone else’s problems and not knowing how to ask for help. Cal just listened, steady and real. Then he said the words Mark needed most: “You’re not failing, mate. You’re just tired.” The heaviness lingered, but something shifted. Maybe not fixed — not yet — but seen. Later that day, they drove...