Thunder
The blankets are tucked up to my chin just the way I like them.
I am engulfed in darkness.
I think he is outside my house.
He flashes his bright eyes.
I am waiting for his powerful voice.
The tension is eating me up.
I can hear him now, he is moaning.
His moan turns to a shout which turns to a roar.
His powerful voice rolls on and on.
He is angry now, I can tell.
He is still there.
He does not want to leave.
He wants someone to let him inside where he is not meant to go.
He is angrier now and his eyes flash again.
He is about to boil over.
His voice booms and my ears are hurting.
His voice rips through the sky.
I can hear him knocking on my window.
He has gone quiet again. I think he is sad. I can hear his tears in the roof.
His eyes light up again.
This time he is not knocking, but lashing out on my window.
He is mad and he is not calming down at all.
He is shouting while running away, his voice is loud but it is fading.
He is going to go and find someone else to let him in.
He is gone completely now.
The storm has moved on.
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