Electric Messengers

The rain began innocently enough. Gentle pearls of autumn fell, barely audible as if the clear wide horizon was whispering its tears surreptitiously for only those chosen few caring enough to a lend an ear, to hear its almost hidden tears in a world where torpidity reigned its monarchy.

I crawled up into a warm corner of my untidy room, yesterday afternoon, with a book in my hand, hoping to find some peace in the aestheticism of the written words, comforted by the thought that such a gentle entity, the sweet autumn rain, is there outside to keep me in good company. I stayed clear of two large spiders on the other end of my room, hanging devilishly of their cobwebs, and they stayed cleared of me, a sort of tacit arrangement between me and these voiceless creatures. The thing about being on my own is there nobody there to berate me on my less than desired house keeping skills. (I might clean once in a blue moon, don't hold your breath of course!)

I soon got lost among the pages and hardly noticed the darkness that started to envelope my humble abode. Alas, the rain was not gentle anymore. The pent up fury of the sky started to roar across the heavens. Suddenly a deafening crash was heard atop my room's roof. At once a blinding flash of a ball of bright white light appeared above my desk, where I had drawn back the curtains. Luckily I had switched of my laptop sitting obliviously there hours ago, and I myself was sitting at the other end of my room. I realized I was well in the middle of an electric storm, as lightnings zig zaged outside like fire bearing arrows shot by invisible angles in the sky. Even the neighbor's stoic grandma screamed when she heard the lightning's crashing fury as it hit my room's corner. Luckily, nothing was fried!! The storm finally reached its grand finalle at 5 p.m.