The still, calm earth waits patiently, anticipating a disaster. The whistling wind brews in a corner obliviously growing stronger and stronger.
Distant houses brace themselves, waiting for the inevitable. The wind is becoming furious. Darkness spills over the land like blood on the floor. For a moment, there is quiet, the houses stand waiting in the dark, curiously watching the skies. The clouds twist and turn in agony, groaning yet gradually building.
The colossal roar of thunder shakes the earth. The invincible wind rushes towards the clouds. The clouds begin to reach down to the earth, as if picking somebody up, and begin swirling leaving a trail of disaster.
We watch, eyes fixated on the dramatic scenes in front of us. The arm of the clouds aimlessly sweeps across the landscape, targeting anything in its path. From a distance there is light, it shines like a beacon of hope, yet it is too far away to contend with the darkness.
The earth remains attached despite the devastating tornado ravishing on any signs of life. The arm feasts on the dust as it grows bigger and stronger than ever. It moves rapidly towards us, the adrenaline rushes through our veins as panic ensues. We rush frantically in the car and attempt to start the engine. The key turns… we wait anxiously. Eventually the car boots into life meanwhile the tornado dashes frantically towards us.
The wind sweeps and pulls us closer to the tornado but luckily the power of the engine is enough to pull away from the demolishing arm. As we sigh a breath of relief, we stop and stare at the scene.
The tornado looks at us with dismay. Tired and exhausted, the arm struggles to keep up right. The dust begins to drop and only then do we realize the damage caused by this storm. Chunks of debris lie scattered across the fields, houses recover from their trauma only to find destruction to their exterior. The landscape resembles a vacant battlefield and the dust settles into resting. The light bursts through the receding clouds and the long road to recovery begins.