I don’t mind not getting any sleep. I’ll just enjoy this storm. Crap, it’s only five o’clock in the morning. Oh well, I like the flashes of light, the preceding silence, then the loud rumbling. The flashes of light can be annoying, but when I just close my eyes it’s soothing. The anticipation of the coming sounds puts my heart into a race. A loud crash stops my heart for a second. The low rumbling resounds in my chest and I feel powerless against such a force. I accept the feeling of vulnerability because I know this phenomenon is not within my control. Then it dons on me. We have no trees in our front and back yards. The flashes of light will strike the tallest object. In this case, it’s the house. We have a vivacious cherry tree, but it’s not yet tall enough to overcome the height of the house.
My imagination takes over. Through the middle of my room a bolt of light pierces through the ceiling, through the floor, and creates a black crack on the tile of the bottom floor. The splintered holes left by the bolt are charred and steam from the heat. I can hear my parents banging on the door yelling if I’m okay. Then my handsome hero swoops through the window and rescues me! I wish.
The loud, rhythmical thumping of the bass from music doesn’t compare to the sensation of that low rumbling penetrating through my body. The sensation starts at my heart and emits from there and ending at my extremities. As I turn onto my other side, I can still feel the sensation. It’s exhilerating. No wonder I can’t get to sleep. I’m too busy getting caught in the storm.
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