Theron Abell, Senior, Writing, Mansfield, TX
The storm rushed me like a thief in the night.
I was alone, my father a statue beside me.
I could see the still, peaceful faces in the mirror.
Lightning hopscotched the sky like cracks of daylight,
Painting the trees and wrinkled sky in harsh relief.
Thunder shook the air to the rain’s harsh cadence against
Our fragile shelter, a marching band’s assault.
A waterfall ran solid down the windshield,
Charging over the wipers that fought to beat it back.
The steering wheel bucked from my hands.
The car galloping across the road.
Walls and ceilings reached down to kick and beat me.
The steering wheel sidestepped my lunges,
But was caught all the same.
The car trotted back the way it came,
The wheel squirming as I threw it around.
It puffed as it came back to heel,
An easy ride again.
I was deaf, panic having leapt clean through my ears.
The waterfall and cruel band were gone.
The stars shone like night lights above,
But no one was asleep.