It comes

It comes

A Story by Wes Hart

There it is again, that feeling that something is coming. The ground moves slowly. It climbs from a slight tremor to a deep rumbling quake and then stops. I used to afford myself some peace when the quaking stopped but now I know what comes next. I cling to the roof I was working on when the thunder comes. Not thunder like normal thunder though. It slams through the air. It makes the house shake and if it wasn’t for my firm grip I’d probably fall. It resounds and resounds, always at intervals like drumming but with no discernable beat. My brothers who work alongside me have become agitated that their work is being interrupted. They begin to talk back to the thunder. Some cursing and others just droning angrily. I find myself caught up in the emotion and soon I let go of the roof and fall down toward the thunder. If it will not stop on its own then I will make it stop.

            I get near the source of the thunder but there is something in my way. I can see a large shape but I can’t get hold of it. This infuriates me more and I begin stabbing at the barrier. It must yield to me, IT MUST. It is by this point that my brothers have fanned out around the house and begun their own frantic searches for the source of the thunder. Then all at once it stops. I see the shape remove itself and the earthquake begins again, this time receding. I stand on the barrier for a few moments. I slowly calm myself while warily looking about. I beat my wings and fly back to the house. The thunder and earthquakes have again damaged my family’s home.

            Next time we will kill what threatens us.

© 2014 Wes Hart


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Added on March 18, 2014
Last Updated on March 18, 2014
Tags: personification

Author

Wes Hart
Wes Hart

Richmond, VA



About
I write when the mood strikes me. I tend to be a very Schmendrick-like individual with my muses. I let them run their course. I'm working on becoming more tempered as an author. Hopefully this com.. more..

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