It started as snow, little white flakes swirling in the sky. Covering the earth in a pale, cool blanket. Then the wind picked up, the sky turned black and the pretty balls of frost warmed to the touch, turned to rain. Ruining my pretty snow blanket.
I stared out the window, listening as the wind howled, scowling as the lights flickered.
The storm robbed me of power, flooded my basement and caused uncharted mayhem.
For three days it was dark. For three days I ate dinner by candlelight. At first, I pouted incessantly but then something strange happened... The lack of electricity unplugged my brain, forced me to seek out other entertainment, like...*gasp* talking. Interacting with other humans by...speaking to them.
I never realized how anti-social I was until that storm, and now when storms come I smile into the whipping wind. I scream to the heavens for more. I ask God to cry, to sob, to soak me in rainwater and take my power for days on end.
Now, I like the dark. I like the subdued quiet behind the sound of a tempest on the horizon. Now, I embrace the storm.