Just One Storm
One streak of lightning appeared like a network of veins, stretching longingly from the atmosphere toward the ground outside. The sky could have been falling. Never before had he seen such an intense and constant downpour. The water flowed over the landscape like waves in an ocean. You could almost imagine whitecaps in the narrow drainage rivers that ran parallel to the road. From inside, the storm was a thunderous applause as heavy drops relentlessly pounded on the roof, the ground, the windows. He sat there without much movement. Watching this storm as a bystander, completely dry, completely warm, not even batting an eye when his cell phone began to buzz repeatedly with flood warnings. Until 8:30 PM. That’s what the warnings said. He had nowhere to go. He became bored with watching the storm and returned his attention to the television. It was past lunch time. Maybe he’d have a snack later.
One streak of lightning appeared like a network of veins, stretching longingly from the atmosphere toward the ground. The sky could have been falling. Never before had he sat through such an intense and constant downpour. The water flowed over the landscape before him like tidal waves and with each passing car those waves crashed at his feet. His wooden bench was softened by the pouring rain and dripped with water. But he sat there anyway. Alone. He did not have much of a choice. He watched the rushing water in the drainage rivers, imagining the capping ocean waves that he had seen so many years ago. The heavy drops relentlessly pounded all around him, pounded and sank through the thousands of leaves above his head. Even with his tree’s protection his weathered clothing became soaked through and the chilling moisture continued to seep deeper. Maybe that’ll wash the dirt out, he thought. He sat, shivering but without much movement. Experiencing the storm from its center, waiting for it to end. When would it? It was so cold. But what could he do. He had nowhere to go.