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Randa Chance

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There’s something about an impending thunderstorm that heightens the senses. The atmosphere stills as the metallic scent of ozone charges the air. Grass and overhanging branches weighed down with leaves suddenly turn a more vibrant green against the dark grey sky. Lightning forks across the clouds, then the wind churns and dust clouds kick up as fat drops of water begin to pound against the earth. Torrential sheets of rain blow past while thunder vibrates the windows. Then bit by bit, the clouds empty and the downpour slows to a steady stream, then a trickle, and there is quiet. Everything…