Imagine: July 2014


What’s with this storm a-brewin’? Where are we, and who might be watching it?




  1. OK I’ve never done one of these before, but this picture spoke to me.

    She saw the dark clouds rolling in, the wind picked up, and the air cooled just enough to make this brutal heat bearable. Closing her eyes, she could feel the power, and strength of the incoming storm. She longed for a break from the sweltering heat, the chance to feel cool air, the smell of rain hitting the hot black pavement. The day had been long and relentless, her patience running thin, but something about the ominous clouds ahead calmed her nerves, and helped her to relax. She could almost taste the rain, and patiently anticipated the feeling of wet drops on her sun-kissed skin. Spring and fall were her favorites, with temperate weather, and beautiful changes in nature, but there was something about the extremes in summer that gave her a thrill. A chill ran up her spine as the clouds, heavy, full, and ready for release loomed overhead. They were moving much faster now, and were bound to unleash their furry on this steaming slice of the world. The leaves ripped through the air as the wind rushed through the trees. The streets were bare except for the last couple stragglers rushing for cover from the approaching cloudburst. She stared up to the sky, waiting, anticipating, feeling a hunger deep in her belly for the storm’s furry to be unleashed. It was close now, any second she would feel it on her skin. Storms always felt like one-time lovers. Each one different, each encounter new, but always leaving her filled with pleasure and calm. It was close now, any second she would feel it on her skin. She needed this, a chance to lose herself, just for a minute, a chance to finish the day with a sense of rebirth and renewal. The clouds moved quickly, the sky lightened, and suddenly the wind slowed. She opened her eyes to see the storm passing by. Not even giving her a backwards glance. No relief, no more cool air to break the heat of the day, just stillness. The temperature picked back up. The world, scared of the rape of the storm emerged from hiding, the sounds of the hot summer day resumed. The pavement was still dry and cracked. The trees looked tired and parched. She cursed under her breath and went back to work, no rest for the weary, no chance to start fresh. She must shove forward into the heat and keep running this marathon of a day.

    • Wow, wonderful, Christine! Particularly love “storms always felt like one-time lovers.” Thanks so much for writing! And sorry it took so long to approve this comment- hardly anyone ever comments on the pages themselves so I didn’t think to check.

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