You can feel the rumblings in the air like far away thunder. The air takes on a heavy charged funny electrical smell like hot wiring; moods begin the shift; sideway looks, little subtle verbal jabs; sounds like far off firecrackers echo off the walls and fill the house. The storm is coming………
My brother and I would run hide in our rooms; spend hours outside trying to put distance from the brewing storm; it’s coming, building massive in its fury; vibrations like earth quakes shake the tiny house; stomachs twist into knots; there is no way to stop it, make a mistake, get in the way and the eye of the storm will focus on you and you alone; so alone.
In the years since I've watch hundreds of thunder storms build, filling the skies with huge angry black clouds, super charged particles dance in closed eyes. I remember so clearly; voices sounding like thunder, the crack of lightning mirrors a hand hitting a face; the low boom of a body blow. The tears fall sounding of tiny fragments of broken glass hitting the linoleum. The distant slam; boom of a door splintering as any escape is denied.
Muted insults like a jack hammer hitting the concrete. These are my memories; I share at last.
In the before times; The Ramblings.