Thunderstorm at my house

Thunderstorm at my house legal.jpg

Seasonally fitting, this is a near-accurate representation of my family during a thunderstorm.


When I hear the rumble, I run,

run, run, downstairs.

My scaredy cat taking refuge on the last step.

I carefully hop over her.

 

In the living room,

I turn off all the lights.

The largest windows,

still shrouded behind curtains.

 

“Are you ready?” Mom asks and,

eagerly,

I nod my head.

 

Quickly she snatches open the curtains.

 

Light flashes before my eyes,

illuminating the night world,

turning it into day.

 

A rumble in the distance,

closer than ten minutes ago,

rumbles inside me, too.

 

I am filled with excitement.

Rain is smacked hard against the windows,

punishing it with its storm.

Lightning flashes!

Then thunder rumbles,

rumbles,

rumbles…

 

Another,

flash!

 

Crack!

 

I jump, startled,

certainly that one hit something!

I step a few paces closer to the window,

looking for a fire in the mountains ahead.

 

A bright light illuminates the night,

showing the things that hide in the dark.

Excitement ripples through me,

I glance quickly left, right, center.

 

“How is it?” Dad comes in,

distracted away from his work.

 

Thunder again,

rumbling…

CRACK!

Lightning bolts instantly

zip across the sky!

 

“Whoa!” Mom shouts

at the same time,

I gasp.

“Oh ho!” Dad says,

a few seconds slow.

 

“Did you see that one?” says Mom,

eyes wide.

“It was amazing!” Dad says,

peering closer to the window.

 

I wiggle my fingers,

“It had lots of roots like attached and—”

“I hear thunder!” Mom sings.

 

Together we scream and shout,

like feverish fans at a concert.

 

Thunder rumbles…

answering to the lightning,

it rumbles…

 

Although I am still excited,

I can tell with disappointment,

the storm is coming to an end.

 

The slashing rains becomes kinder.

Lightning is only a weak flash that

lingers briefly in the sky.

The bolts have hidden themselves again.

 

“Guess that was it,” Mom says.

The floor creaks,

Dad goes back to work.

But me,

I still stare out the window,

hoping it would come back.

 

But it doesn’t.

 

I turn around, disappointed,

I wanted to see more.

But my smile returns when my cat,

with her tail between her legs,

comes slinking back into the room,

like a furry little caterpillar.

 

 

copyrightedTheTigerWriter

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