With a single flash of lightening the storm looms down on the small, unsuspecting town, like a general giving the signal for his troops to go into battle it marches past the weak defences of the Earth. With the force of ten thousand horses it rips its way through the countryside, cutting its way through power lines and trees like a knife through butter, effortlessly destroying the terrain.
The rain begins to attack the ground as the storm descends. Within seconds, it engulfs the small community with devastating force. The torrential rain beats against the rickety window of a fragile house, trying to find a way into the fading security of a child’s bedroom. Merciless the storm picks up, every minute its ferocity doubles, the disaster growing with the strength of the storm. Frightened onlookers gaze in awe as the storm tears through their once peaceful village, it seems like time stands still as a deafening explosion rocks the trembling Earth. A new weapon in the storms armament is used against the exposed inhabitants of the town, fire. The mighty force of the gale spreads the inferno faster than the escaping creatures can run. The storm that a small gust of wind has evolved into swallows the fleeing animals, they let out screams of pain that you can almost feel as they are thrown up into the gloomy sky.
The code is cracked to get into the houses, what remains of the devastated community is finally worn down and reduced to piles of rubble. The terrified families flee into the ancient shelters, built by their ancestors after last time nature vented her fury. The rotting wooden door is torn apart by the malicious wind, slowly giving in to the onslaught from above. Inside the refuge the prisoners sit anxiously waiting for the storm to pass, every crack of thunder echoes around the room, reminding them of the danger lurking outside. The storm knocks against the door of the shelter, waiting patiently for the right opportunity to break in. Unsuccessful it moves on to the next target, undeterred by the resolute survivors of the tragedy.
With the same flash of lightening that signalled the start of the storm it disappears, leaving behind a scene from a war zone. Houses demolished, trees uprooted, burnt-out cars and several bemused survivors helping the injured and trying to work out what just happened. A strange silence hangs over the town, sometimes interrupted by the screaming sirens of the emergency services. No dogs can be heard barking in the evening air, the sky is empty of all birds whose songs used to serenade the residents of the town, no children playing in the summers day, just the occasional call for help from the mountains of rubble. The calm after the storm, reflecting the tension in the air before the storm. Rescuers still wary of the Earth, now darkening with night fall, not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Strange, it is a huge nothing that we fear.
By Joe Grace
