Sta.sh
It was a dark and stormy night.
Really, I mean, you ever heard an interesting story that started on a sunny day with mild cloud cover around an hour or so before dinnertime?
Exactly. Moving on.
The air held a coldness that seeped through brick and stone. It crawled through flesh, freezing blood in icy veins, chilling bones like a slithering ghost in the blackness.
...but not so cold that it was a snow-storm. Cotton candy floating down from an inky sky, shining like diamond eyes in the starlight as soft flakes swirl and dance on feather-light feet in the breeze...
Not quite the image we're looking for.
Rain lashed from the depths of the cruel heavens, wind whipping from the starless smothering blanket above. Thunder roared in fury, cracking alongside his bright lover as she streaked her fire to the lonely earth.
Yes, lightning is a chick. It makes sense. Hair of white-gold light from her glowing moon-face, gown of silver thread spreading down her lithe figure, hem sweeping against the cool dirt beneath her feet. Hottest lady there is, literally.
Nature was never forgiving, in rage or mercy. Its offering of rain to a parched land came only wrapped in the force that swept it empty, leaving structure and human imposition torn down, leaving the elements strewn as they always should have been.
Ah, those long-disproved four elements. Goes to show how the ideas of old cling through the dust-laden centuries as the cogs of history creak ever away, how if there is one thing that has never been blown away by ills or misfortune or bloodshed, it is human thought.
When it was over, it turned away from a realm that had been stripped bare, to its heart, to its soul.
There, on the other hand, is the image we're looking for.
And that, was exactly when the Earth was at its most beautiful.
Mother Nature, ladies and gentlemen.
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. It's very cleverly written and effective.
