Thunderstorm 7-1-2013 The sky outside was completely invisible behind a wall of clouds.

These werent those docile white clouds you beg for in the middle of summer. These were dark grey and ominous, each one a tank trudging forward under the flag of an impending thunderstorm. The air began to smell of wet grass as foreboding winds wreaked a tumultuous and hilariously one-sided battle against flags, telephone poles, power cables, traffic signals, billboards, trees, and the antennae of the flocks of mindless motorists tuning in to their favorite radio stations. People in the supermarkets had decided that they would rather not return to their vehicles just yet (much to the dismay of the staff, who had to endure the whines of little children and the somehow louder responses from every adult within earshot). Then, it began to rain. At first, the rain was simply that; rain. It fell from the sky in wind-skewed trails, and landed on the old asphalt of the town streets; the asphalt that bore a multitude of cracks, potholes, bumps, dips, and gravelly patches. The rain gathered into these cracks and potholes to form puddles and water trails, all of which began to overflow within seconds. Within minutes, the dips and gutters of the streets were completely full of murky rainwater and old, dead leaves which left a smell in the air that, while not pleasant, was a reminder of the comforts of a warm blanket on a stormy day. The rain became heavier and heavier until one could no longer distinguish between individual drops of rain. At this point, seldom few drivers were still on the road at all. Residential streets began to fill more completely while walls, it seemed, walls of rain stood from Earth to Heaven, blocking all sights more than a few feet ahead. Lightning couldnt be seen, but the following thunder crashed throughout the sky as missiles and tanks. One would be inclined to think that they were standing beneath a celestial battlefield. As the winds picked up yet again, the rain shifted from slant paths to nearly horizontal raceways. It was now impossible to distinguish between the clamoring of rain on the walls, the peals of thunder high above, and the felling of the great Oaks and Pines that once stood high and mighty throughout town. For hours it seemed, though indeed only minutes had passed, people everywhere anxiously watched for a dear and awaited lull in the weather. Surely enough, the lull revealed itself. In this lull, people began to leave the supermarkets and drive hastily home in the stillheavy rain. It wasnt long before the clouds up above began to part. This lasted for thirty-three seconds. For in that time, the clouds began to swirl. The clouds swirled. The clouds swirled some more. Faster and faster they swirled, until finally, a funnel lowered through the atmosphere towards the soggy ground. It nearly landed, too, but to the good fortune of the town, began to head South. Miles and miles it travelled, touching the ground here and there in the middle of nowhere, until it reached the coastline and sailed over the gulf.

The rain continued in the town for several hours, though the most eventful occurrences were long gone. The next day greeted the town with a hazy sunrise. Ultimately, there was little real damage. The trees that had fallen had done so near farmlands, open fields, and abandoned roads. Toppled and ripped billboards were a common sight for days to come, and it took over a week to clean the town of shredded branches and twigs. Lawns that had just been mowed were mowed as soon as the ground became a bit more firm and lawns that hadnt been mowed were handled by the Parks and Recreation Dept. That quiet little town with its supermarkets and suburbs would remember that day for a few months, but gradually, it just became another insignificant day, lost to memory. It has been seven years, and the few that do remember only do so when telling an interesting story over drinks at the bar, or over coffee at the local bookstore, merely an anecdote for the sake of a cheap thrill.