A Terrible Thunder

It was asleep. For how long, I don’t know. Maybe a year, maybe a decade, maybe a millennium. It didn’t matter; what mattered was that it was awake, now.

Bitter irony had trapped it underneath the playground of a Catholic school. The children of its enemies would dance and laugh and scream and bleed above it, a slow trickle of their blood and tears and laughter and, most delicious of all, the little blasphemies they would utter when the nuns weren’t looking, seeping through the earth to its dozing ears, nose and tongue.

The storm came, as they are prone to do, unannounced. A bass rumble, a few seconds of nothing, as though the night was holding its breath to see what came next. Then a flicker of light. Then another rumble, louder, and a brighter flash. As the rain went from a quick drizzle to a torrential downpour that turned what the children used as a baseball field into a quagmire, those rumbles escalated to deafening cannon fire. The flashes of lightning on the horizon drew closer and brighter, until each one was turning the world white and imposing a negative exposure on the world.

It ended almost as suddenly as it began, with a final bolt that struck the metal pole the children used for tetherball. Electricity arced from the pole as it raced into the ground and burrowed beneath, and the sound ruptured the eardrums of small wildlife foolish enough to remain in attendance for the awakening.

The rain stopped. No more lights or sounds came from the heavens. Beneath the earth, it opened one baleful eye, and began to laugh.

2 Responses to “A Terrible Thunder”

  1. August 29, 2019 at 10:58 AM

    Cracking piece of flash fiction

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