It's raining. It's been raining for days on and off. But today, there's thunder and lightning. The thunder sounds like a dumpster being drug through the streets, lazily, and clumsily. Thunder sounds like a scrape in the sky.
Lightning is a warning, a flash bulb burnt before an error occurs.
I always talk to the sky in her moments of rage. I do it jokingly but it seems as if someone hears me. "Calm down, I hear you girl, you're powerful! I know beau beau! You don't gotta show off! We know!" She'll ease her temper. The storm will weaken.
Protip: the sky is a girl, a young woman, an elderly lady. She responds to she.
She gets pissed because of something and suddenly old people's joints are in pain and cars crash and knuckles bruise and veins burst and pressure climbs. If she can do it why can't I. When I get angry I personally find I'm much mellower. Maybe.
I'm tired. Itchy. Maybe it's because of her?
"Girl, why am I itchy?"
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RandomNot a fanfic. Basically just a way to get me to write and see if I like what comes out. The best dancing always happens when nobody's watching, I figure the same principle goes for writing.
