The Sound and the Fury

It was that time again. Several hours into his non-chemically induced sleep, the thunder shook him awake. It was an irrational fear, he knew. None of his friends understood; what could compel him to act like a 5-year-old child? Truth was, he didn't truly understand either.

When he was 11, he asked his mother if she would disown him if he was an atheist. She simply smiled and hugged him, saying "I'll love you, no matter what."

Was this some grand scheme in God's plot for vengeance, if He truly did exist, to avenge this high crime of non-belief?

He sat in his computer chair, fingers in ears, quivering, half-due to the cool electric air that filled his room, half-due to the anticipation of thunder.

Funny thing was, it wasn't really the thunder that frightened him. It was the anticipation of the sound, and the fury that followed.