Every week 
The clouds rolled in as Sharon parked in her driveway. She sat there for a few minutes before going inside, pondering the immensely bad day she’d had.
It started off with her being late for work, the first time in nine years. Her boss had been waiting for her reports, and her lateness made him late which made him unhappy. No, unhappy wasn’t the word. Unhinged fit better. She’d left his office feeling assaulted and ashamed at having performed so poorly, even though she had been the top sales manager for five years running. Walking back to her office she thought it all felt a bit off - too intense for being a mere ten minutes late.
But before she could think about it for long, she was hit by a cart full of old desktop computers the IT guy was taking to recycle. The metal cart had ripped her nylons and left her with a bloody gash on her left calf and bruising on her thigh and hip. He hadn’t even apologized but instead glared at her as he picked up the equipment that had fallen to the ground.
The rest of the day continued like that. Everything went wrong from the vending machine taking her money without dispensing her granola bar to the afternoon coffee burning her hand. The harrowing drive home topped it off, and she considered herself lucky to have just lost a fender to a drunk, uninsured motorist.
Finally opening the car door, she glanced up at the sky. The clouds looked thick, but WeatherBug had said the rain would hold off until tomorrow. Not that she cared. She needed to run and shake off the day even if it poured and even if she was bruised and sore.
She changed into her workout clothes and grabbed her headphones before going back outside to the road. Her usual playlist blasting a little louder than usual, she headed north to the trail. It was her usual 10 km route she ran when she needed to think - or de-stress. Her body would move on autopilot while her brain sorted everything out so that by the time she returned home she’d feel normal and relaxed.
The trail into the woods looked a little darker than usual, but she thought it should with the clouds coming in. She didn’t even pause as she went from pavement to forest floor. Another half kilometer and the trees opened up onto a large pond, a swamp really except for the beavers that had built their dams to fill it up. She always slowed a little on this part of the trail to see if she could catch them working. She admired their persistence and ingenuity.
The mound that made their lodge wasn’t too far from the trail, but she had difficulty seeing it. She slowed even more but was unable to focus on it - as if it were twilight when the shapes and shadows blended together. But it wasn’t that late. She looked behind her, and she could see everything just fine.
Stopping, she stared at the beaver lodge and thought she could see a black haze swirling around it. Then she noticed the water. It too was black and seemed to have a dark fog floating just above the surface. Concerned more than worried, she started running again along the trail that continued into the woods. She thought she'd get a better view from the other side of the pond.
She ran to the other side of the pond to realize that she needed to get closer to make a figure out of the smoldering black haze that seemed to eat up all light that shined on it. Curiosity got the better of her and she slowly but carefully walked closer to this subject that had a strange allure and perhaps to a degree somewhat magnetic effect on her. She grabbed a sturdy stick for good measures and approached the presence that swiveled around as a smoke cyclone and hid in cover of the dusk. Strange voices filled the ambiance of the woods that didn't had much to offer besides croaking toads and chirping crickets. First she heard whispers that unsettled her but, logic overtook and she took careful stride on to the black intermittent cyclone to which as she got closer the sounds she heard got louder and more present as if they buried the air. Last thing she heard as she got sucked in was a man yelling "Oh! Shit shit SHIT shit , TIME VORTEX" in a distorted fashion.
