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WanderingMonster

The Storm

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The lightbulbs flickered. I jumped and stared out the window of my flat. The sky was heavy and dark, filled with ominous purple clouds. Distant ‘BOOM’s echoed faintly through the air. The wind picked up and I watched it tug at the brightly colored flags that hung from the buildings.
        The buildings were tall, taller than baobabs, and brown, the color of desert monuments, conical in shape with a plethora of circular windows. They were laid out in a seemingly random order, with the streets winding confusingly in between.
        I wished I didn’t have to live in this ugly city, but my new job demanded it. The wind picked up its pace, howling and hissing through the electrically charged air. The people below me on the streets disappeared into doors, leaving colored cloth and market stalls behind.
        I shuddered as the sky split open, sending bullet-drops of rain at the window. The wind was gusting so hard now that flags flew through the air and lantern posts on the streets below crashed to the ground. I hoped my window wouldn’t shatter.
        A knock came at my door then, calm and sharp. I opened it to see the apartment complex’s owner, a thin man with purple robes and a curled mustache, standing at my door.
        “I wanted to welcome you to Windy City.” He smiled, as if nothing was wrong. “Oh, and a slight storm is coming.”
        I stared. How was he not afraid that this building would crash down around us?
        “You’re new to this city,” My landlord observed. “Do not be afraid. The storms come and go and are a part of our life here.”
        I looked through the blue-glass window. The wind swirled around the irregular buildings and out of the city. Their conical structure kept them from moving even the slightest. The rain ran through the pathways and pooled in wells and gardens. The thunder resonated with the movement of the trees.
        It was beautiful.
        After the landlord left I watched the storm intensify and then fade away. Soon, people surged back into the streets and resumed their lives. A rainbow painted itself over the purple sky. I cracked open my window and hung a little flag of my own over the sill. Windy City was wild and wonderful and interconnected and I was welcome.


 

(∩ ` -´)⊃━━☆゚.*・。゚

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