Sounds From A Sinister Sky...

I'd been up all night and most of the morning hours writing caustic lines. Eventually this had tired me out enough to finally get some sleep. During my slumber a pleasant day had transpired.

When I'd finally dragged myself out of bed it had only been raining for a short while. I'd stumbled to the restroom, and found the dog huddled-up and shaking on the bathmat. That dog had been terrified of thunder since she'd been a pup. Although she'd gotten to be quite old and had almost gone completely deaf the subtle sounds of distant thunder had somehow reached her.

The dog hadn't been the only creature trembling at the sounds of skies. I'd decided to see what the media wanted to tell me about the world, and discovered that a series of meteorological-omens had been issued. There had been prophecies of deadly spired wind-beasts, turbulent bombardments of ice-clad munitions, and torrential cascades of voluminous rain. Scholarly members of the sky-clergy had advised everyone within the prophesied vicinity of these afflictions to beware of the mighty fury of this impending tribulation.

People had taken heed of the elder sky-scholars' warnings. They'd all scurried in a fever to purchase milk and bread in case they would be forced to remain within their shelters for more than a few hours. Then they had all rushed to insulate themselves from the darkening storm clouds that rose above their houses. As the rains began to fall some of them issued penitent prayers to various deities in desperate attempts to gather favor and be protected from the wrath that was lurking in the gathering darkness.

Then the rains had poured down with greater fury and the winds swept through the air at powerful speeds. The trees had tossed and swayed as their leaves had shaken violently, and some of their branches had been torn away by the winds with a resounding crack. Rains had then turned from driven droplets to blinding sheets cast down from the sky. Hailstones the size of pod fruits pelted the surfaces of everything under the darkness of the storms above, and created a cacophony of countless cold collisions.

All the while pulses jumped with each perceptual development of the storm. As the peak of the sky's wrath forced the electricity inside homes to flicker, and some even lost their ability to fuel their artificial lights and media projectors an ominous sense had gripped the people inside this scourge. Their greatest fear had been that if their power had been lost they would have to wait in obliviousness until their service could have been resumed. This didn't cause them to tremble, but to twitch and tweet in a fever of melodramatic dread.

When the skies thundering groans had begun to silence I'd noticed how the cat had yawned and stretched from its comfortable chair. The cat had grown to be nearly as old as the dog, and it had almost gone completely blind. It had heard every clap of thunder and every drop of rain. It hadn't bothered to decipher anything the sky-scholars had said, and it hadn't concerned itself with anything the people had been concerned themselves with. Somehow that blind beast had known better than the deaf old dog and the hyper-conscious people. There hadn't been anything to blink twice about. It had been nothing more than the sounds from a sinister sky.