You could feel it. A terrible storm was coming.

A grandma hurried home, pulling her grandson closer as she shielded her eyes from the growing sandstorm.

Others rushed to take their clothes and pets inside. Storms enforce a strict order, and all comply.

Grandma stopped suddenly, her eyes widening with confusion.

Her grandson had been staring at someone. She’d noticed him too.

He walked calmly, absorbing the urban panic as the sandstorm kissed him.

"Why are you smiling? Can’t you see the storm?", she screamed.

He chuckled, and kept walking.