Song of the Storm

Writing Practice #1 Theme: weather Focus: metaphors and similes

A gentle rhythm played on the roof as the ground darkened with moisture. The air outside was warm and heavy, so different from the freshness of the air-conditioned indoors. After facing the incessant, scorching glare of the sun for the last week, the parched earth drank the water eagerly. Petrichor filled the atmosphere, and the girl breathed deeply. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, allowing the fat droplets to run down her face. She became a statue with her arms outstretched, absorbing the water as it poured down upon her. Her clothing dragged down like lead and sagged over her slim form. A soft rumble joined the hushed staccato, feeling out its place in the stormy symphony.

The girl’s eyes snapped open, and a broad grin appeared across her face. She dropped her arms and dashed forward, her bare feet slapping against the wet asphalt. Her laughter melted into the shower as she forced her limbs to pump faster and faster, pushing herself to the limit. She slowed as the dead end approached, and folded to support herself against her knees. The huge smile on her face remained as she gasped desperately for a lungful of that heavy air. The deep rumble inserted itself again into the improvised melody, this time more confidently. The girl stretched her arms up, straining to reach the fluffy grey ceiling. She inhaled slowly as the trees in front of her revealed their secrets in a flash of blinding light, and she gradually lowered her arms to her sides.

The tempo was increasing, and the girl began to move her body accordingly. She listened closely to nature’s song, feeling it to her core. The pounding of her heart blended seamlessly with the rushing chorus as the timpani added depth, more frequently and with conviction now. Bursts of light illuminated the stage, accenting the performance. The girl’s dancing became frenzied as the tiny mortal endeavored to mirror the unbridled energy of these vast forces.

She collapsed onto the soggy grass, all energy spent. As the symphony approached its conclusion and began to fade, she rolled over onto her back and flung her arms out on either side. Her fingers dug deep into the slime of mud, feeling for how much of the vital elixir the earth had consumed. She closed her eyes. The loud hammering of her heart and the ragged panting of her breath steadily diminished. A peaceful smile graced her features as the rhythm of the rain slowed to a stop. The song of the storm had ended.