{"id":111786,"date":"2022-06-25T15:19:13","date_gmt":"2022-06-25T19:19:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/?p=111786"},"modified":"2022-06-25T15:19:13","modified_gmt":"2022-06-25T19:19:13","slug":"storm-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2022\/06\/storm-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Storm"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>He saw <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">the alarm clock over there, ticking on the<\/span> chest of drawers. <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">\u201cGood God!\u201d<\/span> he thought. <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">It was half past six, and the hands were going quietly on. It was past the half hour, almost quarter to seven.<\/span> Shouldn&#8217;t <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">the alarm have sounded?<\/span> One <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">could<\/span> see <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">from the bed that it had been<\/span> properly <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">set for four o&#8217;clock. Certainly it had rung. And was it even possible for one to sleep quietly through the noise that made even<\/span> the furniture shake? <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">Now, he certainly hadn&#8217;t had a peaceful sleep, but apparently it was deep nonetheless. But what should he do now?<\/span> The next train left <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">at seven o&#8217;clock. To catch that one, he would have to make a mad dash;<\/span> his <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">assortment of<\/span> wares wasn&#8217;t packed up yet, and he really didn&#8217;t feel <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">particularly fresh and active.<\/span> <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">And<\/span> <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">even if he caught the train,<\/span> there was no way to avoid those storm clouds brewing <span style=\"color: #ffffff\">over the boss&#8217; head, because the firm&#8217;s errand boy would&#8217;ve waited for the five o&#8217;clock train and reported the news of his absence long ago.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>He saw the alarm clock over there, ticking on the chest of drawers. \u201cGood God!\u201d he thought. It was half past six, and the hands were going quietly on. It was past the half hour, almost quarter to seven. Shouldn&#8217;t the alarm have sounded? One&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":76,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-111786","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111786","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/76"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=111786"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111786\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":111979,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111786\/revisions\/111979"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=111786"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=111786"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=111786"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}