What's that?

In my periphery, the storm clouds grew darker. I was in for a long day. My mind cycled through the possibilities. Well, I thought, I'm an only child. No brother or sister to play with. No problem. I went to the closet. Battleship. Life. Candy Land. I sighed heavily at the irony, which was obviously lost upon my parents, who decided to purchase a number of games for families, but never really caught on to the idea of "family game night." At this point, I was forced to weigh my options. What to do? I could go outside and risk myself in the death storm. No. I could watch television, but at this point in the day, my options were limited. I could struggle with Telemundo, perhaps? I shook this thought out of my head. You're a fighter, I said out loud. I turned my attention back to the closet. From the corner of my eye, a bright box caught my interest.

Creative Writing 09-10

The Thunderstorm

The day began as one of those terribly hot and humid days that can only happen in mid-August. There was no wind, and the silence hung heavy. The usual activity on the street where I lived had ceased. No children screamed with delight at the park as they played on the swings. The skateboarders, who were always out whatever the weather was, had taken cover indoors to entertain themselves with video games. I looked out my window and shuddered for no apparent reason that I could fathom.