It was black and hinting at evil. I ran out the door into the cool morning as the clouds black and lustful, danced above my head. In the open elements under the writhing cauldron sky I stood in wax as my hair was lifted and spun in cyclonic fashion. I faded into the sensuality of the moment. A distant church tower chimed. I opened my eyes. I’d have to move quickly, I took my Explorer off the splintered old sawhorses. I admit a quick glance at my new repair. “Yeah, good.”, I thought. I’ll get at it with rubbing compound later. Out of the corner of my eye I saw clothing still hung from the lines flapping sideways, and looking like a coven of witches racing into the storm. I ran to each one and pulled them down until the lines were empty and my arms were full. The wind riled the clothing such that it felt as if I were holding a a flock of angry Grackles in my arms. Each trying to escape wherever my grip was weak. I ran them into the house which was still dark as the morning since I was the only one up and about. I tossed them aside for later attention. The wind whistled through windows left open to bring in the cool night air. The curtains swayed and reached out at their sides. I stood in the center of the house and watched the walls dance around me. I needed to be outside.

Meanwhile over the horizon and behind the rising sun the sound of thunder split the clear blue skies. . .