The wind blew madly. The horizon had dimmed and taken on a shade of grey so terribly threatening that one would feel the very sky was at war with the earth. The wind howled and crashed into buildings, whipping rain and debris in every direction. The frigid air stole the breath and chilled the bone.
In a nursery a baby lay asleep, unaware of the imminent destruction brewing only miles away. He was named Joshua and he was a radiant baby boy. He stirred in his sleep as the wind picked up outside his window, hurling fence-matter and any other random bits of things it could get its eddies on. Joshua woke up peacefully and glanced with infantile curiosity at the mobile spinning above him. It had cows and moons and stars and spun gently as it played "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". Joshua intently gaped at his mobile as, just on the other side of his wall, a cyclone was ripping and roaring his little town apart.
In the same nursery a man stood calmly with a determined air about him. He was wearing dress clothes but no jacket. He leaned on the doorframe and watched Joshua watch the mobile - both with keen interest. The man knew well that there was a storm going on, but his interests were firmly situated on the baby. Really, his interests invovled both the baby and the storm but, for now, baby Joshua was the most important thing in the world. As the storm outside gave a particularily suggestive crash of noise, the man averted his attention outside. What he saw sent tremours through his blood.
The cyclone had picked up considerable momentum and bore down towards the small white house. It was a lonely white house on a long twisty road, and there were no cars in the driveway. The cars that WERE in the driveway were now strewn randomly across the country farmland. The drivers and passengers were all deceased. The funnel shrieked aggresively and seemed to pinpoint its next target.
Joshua's eyes shot open wide as the roof of his rooms was torn from the walls, taking the mobile, and stick-on star system with it. To the little baby the noise was nothing but pure deafening chaos. It hurt him badly and he began to wail so loudly it competed with the storm.
This was the moment the man had been waiting for. He shileded his eyes as the roof flew away and all the windows smashed with supersonic power. He stumbled and grabbed a dresser to get his bearings as the wind licked at the walls of the room, and menaced the furniture within. He fell to the floor as Joshua's bed rose from the ground, tipping, blankets flying everywhere. The momentum of the gale and force of the wind sent the crib flying across the room, growing ever faster as it shot towards the now-broken window.
The crib shot out of the room like a bullet, taking most of the wall along with it. It drifted tens of meters through the air before skidding, broken and mangled along the road. There was nothing left of it but two legs, a base and a few of the verticle bars. There was nothing inside. A torn piece of blanket drifted up, got caught for an instant on a splinter of wood, and danced off solemly into the damp grey atmosphere.
Tens of meters away, beneath the window, in the middle of a garden, on soft muddy soil, lay baby Joshua. He was wrapped in a blanket, or rather, cacooned in a blanket. It was wrapped around him in an unnatural way, so that only his face was exposed. He resembled a great big baby blue butterfly-to-be. He was crying.
The man had stood at the window and watched Joshua fly from the bed only seconds before it spun out of control and eventually crashed into smitherines. He watched as the blanket seemed to hurriedly wrap the baby up, spinning him like a spider. And finally he watched as Joshua fell onto a bush, and bounced off, narrowly missing shrapnel all the while, landing in a patch of soft muddy soil.
The man picked up the baby, whispered something pleasantly in his ear, and held him to his chest. The baby calmed immediately. From far above The man and baby all that could be seen on the ground was wreckage. Vehicles tossed here and there, entire buildings obliterated, Livestock mangled. The wreckage stretched even farther still, on a trail of destruction, to the closest village. It was entirely wiped out.
In the center of all the wreckage, amidst the unspeakable tragedy a man began walking down a long and twisty road. He had a baby in his arms...