That Day



“Thunder rolls and claps outside my windows, bringing with it the sounds of fear and tranquility.”


The floor is shaking with anticipation as lightening crashes in the distance. The world is at the mercy of chance, fate even. Below my feet I feel the tremble of my house as it quakes in fear of being the next victim. A teapot screams from my stovetop bringing all my attention to my kitchen rather than my shaking feet.

The floor is colder every step I advance to my whistling teapot. A soft patter and scoot of my feet are almost drown out by the rain that berates my house. I take the glass quietly off the island where I had prepped for my coffee earlier in the morning, and set it on the cold burner that is unused by my kettle. I grasp my teapot handle firmly and pop the lid, letting the steam rise to the fan above, and pour the hot water into my glass.

Coffee perfumes my house almost instantaneously, bringing with it the warmth of a brighter, sunnier day. Taking the glass, I walk silently back to my coffee table, set down my glass, and sit on the pillow I had placed on the floor. My fingers move quickly and precisely as I open my laptop and search in Google, “tornado warning”. I pause a moment and look up to my right to see the trees dance and sway eerily with the wind, and the rain at a very steep incline. My heart pounds in my chest.

“Green sky. Wall clouds. Hail spontaneously.” I whisper to myself. Looking out the window again my heart thumps harder as I notice the rain and wind has completely stopped. I stand and walk quickly to the door, my footsteps much louder than before, and open the door. Quiet. My hands shaking now, I open the screen door wide and lean past the door frame to gaze at the sky. THUMP. My heart feels as if leaping from my chest is much wiser than standing here.

Lightening strikes without warning causing me to snap to my senses and yank my head back inside briefly. My body feels faint as my heart has been in fear, but against all common sense, I lean forward and gaze outside once more. In the distance I see black and white almost hovering fifty or so feet above the ground. I squint my eyes and try to make sense of the object. My hair whips over my face as I am pulled into my yard by the wind. Blinded by my hair, I fall to my knees and desperately try to regain sight. A hand grasps my arm tightly and pulls me to my feet. Through my tangled hair, I see the black and white figure that had been in the distance, now holding my arm and yelling mute words at me.

My hair whips again as the hand tightens around my arm. I look up into the face of the black and white figure long enough to hear the words “LOOK AT ME!” My heart stops, and my knees collapse under me. My eyes meet his and briefly scan the figure before closing. “Wings?”


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