Describe a thunderstorm without using the sense of hearing.
The shuddering clouds hastily crowd together, lifting their porpoise veils in a fruitless struggle to escape the wrath of her approaching fury. Some have clad themselves beneath charcoal cloaks, while the others have been concealed amongst the darkening curtains of a sycophantic sky ; he, the only one who merrily heralds her arrival.
Amidst a deceiving calm, she strikes.
Her claws pull apart the curtains in a blazing weave and illuminated is the befallen night with the horrors of her branching limbs. And while her image lasts a splitting second, her presence radiates for posterity to come.
With her receding footsteps, comes the ever abiding sky, shielding his mistress until she is ready to step out again.
This time, she chooses another victim. Someone vulnerable; someone she can crush under her toes and someone, whom she can trample beneath her feet.
She stalks, she follows, and then as the curtains draw to a close, she hunts down her prey.
Only to return once again, and turn another day, into her nightly realm.
15th January 2019
