Proud music of the storm

A Story by Flopp

Just a small extract from a real event.

Our family’s reliable car, raced along the tracks of the dusty countryside road. I rolled down the car window and stuck my head out, eager to get away from the sickening leather smell of the seats. A scenic view greets the eye, full of rolling green hills and antiquated tree trunks; gnarled, throughout the brunt caused by time. The ever radiant grace of the golden sun, shines bright, blessing the emerald grass with a glossy texture. Fragrant smells of roses and violets overpowered my sense of smell. Swift winds skimmed throughout the fields, folding the grass and flowers every way possible. Birds twittered and chirped their sweet songs, which ringed in my ears. The canvas of the navy blue sky was dotted with cream coloured clouds, as soft as cotton.

Gradually, the chirping stopped, and the wind died out, transforming the scenery from peaceful into eerie. Birds flocked around trees, causing a terrifying raucous,as if spooked by something, and quickly settled in to roost. Clouds darkened swiftly, as quick as a heartbeat, and small clumps of clouds gathered into huge mountains, daring to see who would challenge the presence of this alarmingly imposing mass. The calm before the storm…

Abruptly, a distant soft rumbling accumulated into a resounding roar. My mother shook my shoulder gently, telling me to roll up the window. As I did what I was told, a curtain of thick coal black clouds covered the elegance of the glorious sun, dissolving the brilliant shafts of light. At first a light drizzle scattered across the glass, flowing down into larger drops, eventually dripping off the car into large puddles. Angry rain drops thundered down from the heavens, as more clouds gathered together in a swirl of boiling darkness. Forks of lightning licked the muddy brown earth, occasionally setting a lonely bush in a menacing ball of glowing crimson fire; only to die out from the relentless cascading showers. Chaos, it seemed was prospering. Rain bled from the endless void of obsidian black clouds. Sharp winds howled mournfully, escaping desperate clutches of the branches of trees. Trees did not sway, they creaked, bent and moaned as their strong limbs were forcefully ripped apart. The leaves, become not confetti, but bullets in the gale.

Another cacophony of hissing and buzzing thunder worked together with lightning to escape the shackles of the sky. Whilst the battle of the elements continued, the wind charged at old and withering trees, only to knock them to the ground mercilessly, producing dull and creaking thuds. Our car jerked and quivered along a fading muddy track; every so often getting delayed in the squelching mud. Looking down at my fingers, I twiddled and played with my thumbs, thinking in my mind thoughts as dark as the storm. ‘What if the car breaks down? What if the lightning strikes our car? What if we die?’. Sending these thoughts away, I began to appreciate the safe haven inside our car and suddenly found my fingers more interesting than the cataclysm raging outside.

A white hot flash of silver, sparkling with magnificent electricity, struck close to the ground in front of us. The car stopped suddenly,accompanied by a few gasps; I peered over to gaze at a midnight black scorch mark. It had completely obliterated the ground, leaving a small crater. In the end we decided it was unsafe to travel any longer, so we started to drive to a nearby inn not far away. As the inside of the car shook and trembled I glanced once more outside. The wind and thunder wanted to be heard. The lightning fought to be seen. The rain lived to soak everything. This is the proud music of the storm...