At the time the little girls where asleep upstairs and I was cleaning the kitchen. At first I thought a large truck was passing by the house. The house is older and often rattles. However when the rumble didn't stop and the movement got more and more aggressive I realised it was an earthquake.
Instead of staying in a doorway or under a table as we all have been taught I ran upstairs immediately. The older little girl had been woken up by the noise and was crying, but the baby, who was in a swing at the time didn't make a murmur.
A few minutes later my boss got home and we compared notes. I had been scared. I have never felt anything like this before. It was like (to quote Steve) someone had put me in a box and shaken it. Things had fallen off shelves, windows had rattled and walls had flexed.
About half an hour after the quake I was able to finally get hold of Steve and find out he was ok. He had run out of the apartment down the newly painted stairs to outside after the quake struck. Our tub still has flecks of grey paint, but his feet are clean now.
Luckily noone was hurt and both my work and home where intact, but it was an unexpected surprise.
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