I like rainstorms.
No, correction – I like lightning storms. Every time the sky flashes, I feel a pulse of hot purple electricity pump through my veins, just for a second, and it is magical.
The wind from my window came warm, wild, and smelled of young summer.
The sky in the distance rumbled, like the uneasily empty stomach of some terrible beast.
First there comes the flash of bright, impossible white that fills the sky, like God is taking a picture of the world.
Then, after the silence of sniggering raindrops comes the bellow of raw laughter. An invisible fist beats the taut skin of the sky like a drum, and the world just reverberates with the sound.
>>
It rained and thundered last night. Excited about our first thunderstorm of the year, I was awake at an hour way past being considered normal, by the light of my iPod, writing the above blurb in a notebook.
Summer is coming, and it is good. :D
Do you ever stay up past 12:00 just because you were suddenly struck with writing inspiration?
Do you like lightning storms?
