I can smell the rain. Can you? The air is dry as the Sahara, and the thunder is God practicing his bowling skills. The lightening is mystical. It lights up, a flock of faeries or angels visible for a pure second of time. The wonder of the storm frightens the young ones, but it's something I admire, something I aspire to. A storm. It's beauty in chaos, noise in silence. It's power and might, it's not afraid to be what it is. It's lovely. I catch myself wishing that you were here. Maybe, we'd watch the storm together. Maybe we'd laugh and talk and just sit and let nature be. Maybe we'd throw in a movie and just enjoy each other's company. Maybe it would be another memory worth remembering. Maybe you would have gone with me to the lake to take pictures of nature at its finest. Maybe you would've joked about throwing me in the lake. Maybe you would have cautioned me about the wisdom of going lakeside during a thunderstorm. Maybe I would've listened--most likely I wouldn't have. Tonight is full of maybes because the truth is you're not here. So I'll dream of what could be and I realize maybe, just maybe, you're watching the same storm with me.
~Sayuri~
P.S. Summer..Challenge: ACCEPTED
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