White Knuckles

The wind howls. It picks up, clanking against the chain linked fence. My hair blows in my face. " I don't think this would be an ideal time to skate." Olivia says. Her voice hushed by the wind. " Unless it was at my back." I reply. Garbage is flung through the air. I am pushed forward, nearly losing my balance, causing me to fall off the diving board. "We need shelter." Olivia shouts. There is concession stand with bathrooms. We push forward, struggling just to walk. We make it to the stand. I jiggle to the doorknob. Of course it's locked. It was worth a shot though. We witness the wind growing angrier. Viewing the shingles and tiles whipped into the air. With aboslutely no where to go, I do the only thing I can think of. I grab hold of the door nob with my right hand. Olivia grasps my left hand, digging her nails in deep. Here we are, three white knuckles.