The sun was a molten ball of malevolence, dipping beyond the horizon. Like the burning fingers of a demon escaped from hell, the wind raked my face, leaving behind its wet footprints. The empty road glistened like a river of burnished silver.
Devoid of activity, devoid of life - the city streets were as deserted as a modern city in a post-Apocalyptic movie.
The furious skies darkened their brow, outraged at being ignored, blotting out the arrogance of the sun. The trees began to sway to the tunes of an invisible fiddler, enthralled by her music.
The drops leapt from the pavement, scalded by its touch. I stretched out my arms to embrace them, like a long-lost lover, returned to a loved one's fold.
Devoid of activity, devoid of life - the city streets were as deserted as a modern city in a post-Apocalyptic movie.
The furious skies darkened their brow, outraged at being ignored, blotting out the arrogance of the sun. The trees began to sway to the tunes of an invisible fiddler, enthralled by her music.
The drops leapt from the pavement, scalded by its touch. I stretched out my arms to embrace them, like a long-lost lover, returned to a loved one's fold.
2 comments:
Button down the hatch a storm is on the way. Storms seem to alway be leaving or coming, both in nature and in our lives. I hope this comment finds you well - GQ
Brilliant post and an equally brilliant comment by Graquill!
Loved that line "Storms seem to alway be leaving or coming, both in nature and in our lives."
Awesome!
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