Crash.
Rain throws itself against my window, as though trying to out-do the howling of the wind.
The trees groan in protest as the churning sky whips them to and fro.
Flicker.
Lights dim, then blacken as the electricity is lost to the darkening atmosphere.
I light a candle, it's fire illuminating my small table. I lift my pen again, just hardly set back by the loss of light.
Whimper.
The dog lays at my feet, whining with nervousness at the monster who wreaks havoc on the outside.
The sky, black and heavy with storm, pours the rain upon the fragile flowers in the garden.
"Please..."
Flowers try to gaze upward with tired eyes, but are beaten down relentlessly by the sky's burden.
The clouds above grumble with thunder and scream with lightning, each streak a reminder of how furious the storm is getting.
Goosebumps.
I watch, intrigued from the danger.
I'm tired, but won't let sleep hamper my creativity.
But the storm- it plays me. Coaxes me.
"Sleep..."
Pulling my energy like a harpist pulls her strings.
Breathe.
I resign myself to the fact that the storm is more powerful than I. Putting down my pen, I wrap myself in a blanket and curl into bed, exhausted.
Crash.
The rain still pounds.
The thunder still roars.
The candle still flickers.
And I lie there watching it, hypnotized.
Until finally, I close my eyes,
And sleep.
