Midwestern Summer Storm

Darkness envelopes the empty sky on a warm
summer day. Billowing black clouds shuffle in
one after another. Thunder rolls from one
snowy blackness to the next. Rain cascades
down rooftops and hills. It pours into the open
petals of blooming flowers which have not yet
closed from the suddenness of the storm.
Their hollow blossoms fill with the teardrops
of the persistently weeping clouds. Fiery
streaks of light bolt from the thunderous
pillows, striking anything within their reach.
The angry storm has not yet begun its
destruction.
The town hovers below the audacious fury.
The rain beats and clatters down upon the
aching rooftops and haggard windowpanes.
Thunder and lightning collide as one in
glorious booming splendor spotlighting the
frightened town. The blackness of the clouds
clashes into the horizon where the sun has
begun to set. Not a soul walks the quiet
town's streets or leaves their sheltering
homes. Cars cry in pain at the abuse of the
sudden shower. A multitude of clouds begins
to swirl together creating an irate twisting
funnel reaching for the sodden ground. Its
raging roars bellow throughout the
terror-stricken town. The unspeakable force
drives over cars, houses, and trees leaving
nothing but destruction and devastation
behind. Madness leads the tornado's path.
A death-like silence follows the cyclone's
adventure. Masses of rubble stretch across
the barren ground. The ebony color of the
clouds begins to lift and float away revealing a
grayish fog. An aura of evening shade from the
still-setting sun attempts to clear the
unnerving gloom. It releases rays of violet,
thistle, and goldenrod, penetrating the
atmosphere like random brushstrokes on the
canvas of a mad painter. The fiery ball
vanishes into the thickness of the horizon
giving way to an explosion of stars on a clear
blue night. The day ends. The night forgets.