For three days it had blown steadily from the northeast. Then the storm struck, with the vengeance of God behind it. They watched as dark clouds boiled in the sky, and rain blew in through the cracks in the wall. Even the strong oak trees had not been safe, and tall pines bowed to the earth as men bowed before the queen. For two days, the storm roared.…
"Beauty is only skin deep" was a phrase I heard quite often during my awkward childhood. When I was a baby, I had two chins, Michelin Tire legs, and hair that stuck straight up even though it was easily over two inches long. My mom would often dress me in only a diaper on hot days inspiring my uncle to label me with the name of "Marshmallow Butt." It was a name he was quite fond of calling me, even years later. As I grew, the double chin turned into one and a half, the legs stretched into colonial columns, and the hair eventually lay flat. This all happened just in time for puberty-acne and my first training bra when I was only ten. It was during this transitional point in my life that my father began to teach me a valuable and significant lesson regarding beauty and the power of words.…
All the days had been nice,…rain hadn’t been invented yet. But clouds massing east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one. –Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett…
It seemed like I was wandering into a different dimension. My senses were becoming acquainted to new feelings: guttural whispers, excruciating odour, ponderous glass-like air and the cemented, pungent, taste of death! As I opened the door candlelight rose to greet me but who lit them? I was informed that the secluded house I was purchasing has been unoccupied forever.…
The rain began just as Dr. Franklin Jacobs dashed up the few remaining steps to his home. Shaking the few stray droplets in his hair loose, he slammed the door shut against the onset of the storm.…
This isn’t a chapter about the weather; it’s about our lives. When your personal storm strikes, will you cry out in fear or live by faith? He's walking on the water towards you. The thing you think is about to destroy you, He's using for a sidewalk to save you!…
As I walk I admire all of nature and buildings because, I have been thinking about how I should savor life more so I guess I am. When I see my apartment I see two police cars. I start to worry. Running up to one of the cars I ask “What happened?…
“Now, go on.” “I’m scared,” I said. “Go on and don’t pay any attention to them,” she said. I went out of the door and walked briskly down the sidewalk, praying that the gang would not bother me.…
Thirsty I made my way towards the kitchen to pour myself a glass of Cranberry Pomegranate juice. Sitting around what’s left of the dining room table one of its hinges obliterated merely three table legs left as a support. A branch from the oak tree near the kitchen window kept tapping against the walls and windows as the wind blows. This branch at night when the murky moonlight blooms against the massive tree meticulously resemble an oversized man with a knife trying to break into the house. I often dreaded coming down the stairs for a cup of water or juice late at night when the lights were off. The terrified image and screeches sound on the window always send me scurrying right back to my room and ducking under the covers trembling for dear…
The knock was now even louder. “I wonder who it could possibly be at a time like this.” She wondered. As she opened the door she recognized it was Sam from the grocery store. “Why Hello Sam! What brings you here?” Mrs. Maloney asked. “I just wanted to tell you I heard about what happened yesterday. I am so sorry this occurred. Will you be attending Mr. Maloney’s funeral this week?” Sam replied. “Yes I will.” She answered. “Goodbye now Mrs. Maloney.” Sam said. “Goodbye!” She replied.…
The weatherpersons on television, always eager for ratings-boosting disasters, had predicted a fierce autumn storm for New England, with driving rain and high winds. Brad Morris, who worked at home while his wife, Jane, managed a boutique on Boston’s Newbury Street, glanced out his windows now and then at the swaying trees—oaks still tenacious of their rusty leaves, maples letting go in gusts of gold and red—but was unimpressed by the hyped news event. Rain came down heavily a half hour at a time, then pulled back into a silvery sky of fast-moving, fuzzy-bottomed clouds. The worst seemed to be over, when, in midafternoon, his computer died under his eyes. The financial figures he had been painstakingly assembling swooned as a group, sucked into the dead blank screen like glittering water pulled down a drain. Around him, the house seemed to sigh, as all its lights and little engines, its computerized timers and indicators, simultaneously shut down. The sound of wind and rain lashing the trees outside infiltrated the silence. A beam creaked. A loose shutter banged. The drip from a plugged gutter tapped heavily, like a bully nagging for attention, on the wooden cover of a cellar-window well.…
Joni woke remembering that she still needed to get out of the car her last thought before she'd fell unconscious, even though the bright lights stung her eyes her headache worse than before. She pushed her self up onto her elbows, groaning quietly at the pain that suddenly shot down her arm in response to this movement, though she couldn't tell whether they were cut or bruised. Trying to open her eyes Joni squinted at the bright strip lights directly above her. A strong antiseptic smell filled her nostrils causing a nauseous feeling to wash over her. A noise that sounded as though it was coming from far in the distance was beeping in a steady rhythm, sounded amplified against the otherwise still silence. Trying to look round the room Joni's eyesight, which was not yet adjusted to the bright light, saw that her surroundings consisted of mainly white. The dark shape of a man sitting by Joni's bed stood out against the whiteness of the room. The man wore casual clothes so he couldn't have been a doctor or nurse, and yet Joni didn't know who this man was or why he was visiting her.…
I spent a great amount of time trying to decipher how to get the car to start. Meanwhile, Joe just sat there by the side of the road eating crackers. “We’d be on our way now if you would just call a tow truck!!” he yelled. I paid him no mind, that’s all he ever does anyway, talk. Yet, he was right. I couldn’t afford a tow truck, I was still waiting on my next paycheck, since the last one finished the next day after I cashed it. I leaned against the trunk of my car, I looked down at my shoes they were…
Its 9pm on a Sunday and I can feel the first of the rain as its droplets catch on my outstretched palms. There’s something very humbling about the rain. It’s one of nature’s great forces, and completely escapes our control. When the rain comes, it doesn’t account for petty human drama, politics and cultural divisions. I ponder this thought as I round the bend and turn down the next street. The rain is a reminder that above all else, we are at the whim of mother nature. Beyond our constructed realities and perception of modern society lies a force mar more powerful than humanity. This is a somewhat overwhelming thought, and instantly I long for togetherness and company, but I must remind myself that I am a stranger here. Through the windows of the houses lining this street, people go about their lives to the sound of the rain on their rooftops. Perhaps some of them are experiencing similar thoughts to my own? Raindrops slide down my forehead and drip from my brow onto my eyelids- the water blurs my vision. In this dreamlike state, I wander forwards, the lights around me shifting, darting and sliding in the darkness. At this bizarre moment in time I feel a sudden and uncontainable urge to peer through the windows of the houses that surround me, to catch an insight into the lives of these strangers. Through each window lies a different truth, and I am suddenly all too eager to explore these realities- lives that occur in spite of the rain.…
Tired, with a headache, and not in capacity to maintain my eyes open, I remembered next day was Halloween, which was the last thing I remembered before falling sleep. I woke up and saw the watch, it was three o’clock a.m. I listened to a weird sound that came from my closet; it was soft, but I could hear it like a rat scratching the walls. Intrigued about what was happening, I woke up and walked towards the closet. The sound gave me the chills.…