The Last Appeal

They had warned the locals

The clock was ticking.

When the wind whistled,

I rushed to the window,

And gazed at the shadows on the street

Which were cast by the uncanny street lamp.

The wind cursed,

The lights flickered.

The wind howled deafeningly,

Sparks flashed from the lines above,

And the lights died.

Midnight struck—approaching bedtime

The mad wind battered my home

I barreled upstairs,

And I hopped in my bed

In the oppressive darkness.

The torrential downpour pelted the steel roof and siding,

I gave ear to my heart, pounding aloud.

As I was lying down,

The lantern in the hall flickered

I could see through the second-story window in the shadowy hall,

The tall matchstick trees in my backyard dancing erratically,

Performing threatening contortions

I pulled my blanket up.

What was that noise?

I dashed to the window,

And my eyes peeled

Uprooted trees full of wisdom laid across the sidewalk

I never witnessed mother nature so upset.

The utility wires waved, snapped,

And whipped the damaged properties mercilessly

More clusters of distorted trees tilted and collapsed helplessly

Agonized souls stormed out of their dwellings,

With eyes raining

My face dropped,

As I watched with terror.

The wind cried,

I jumped back in bed

The floor and walls shook,

The Gods grew angrier than ever

The foundations rattled,

And my teeth chattered

As I feared the unknown.

Turned a blind eye

To wildfires, floods, and plagues.

Turned a deaf ear

To prophecies.

I knew the malevolent force would destroy the oasis that had once surrounded me

On this timeless night.

Illustration by Art Young

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