| Everyone has felt it; that bitter turmoil sloshing inside. The cause is not always easy to sift out of the dust one is feeling. Sometimes it gets so bad that a pillow is the only medicine. Anger. Rage. Seeing red. Indignation. Whatever one calls it, it is the same feeling. Sometimes during this feeling, rain will come in torrents or only a drizzle, while other times it is roaring thunder everywhere. The worst type is the kind with no precipitation because then that fire inside must be released in a more violent, physical method. Adrenaline rushes through the veins and the stomach grits its teeth. A taste of blood fills the mouth, dripping onto the tongue from the roof. Mentos cannot even eliminate the flavor. Along with the flavor, uncontrollable tremors shake the body with seizures. The brain comes to a point and focuses on the hated object. Intelligible words are impossible because the throat become clogged with the phlegm of anger. Small sparkles seem to burn under the skin all over, adding a scarlet veil to the color. Vision becomes translucent and foggy as the need to release increases. Soon sight problems goes unnoticed because of the pain. Throb. Throb. Throb. The neck becomes floppy, heavy, and then stiff with pain. It feels as though an arrow is lodged in the back of the neck and the blood drips downward in the form of sweat. This sweat is the only water so far, and even the thunder is quiet while waiting for its turn. The back is tight and numb; frozen even with the fires and sweat. Now noise builds all around. Concentration falters and almost falls off the cliff. The storm is still in the beginning stages of wind and darkness. Hair is straggly like the moving branches of a tree in the wind. Pupils dilate and long for the evil tidings that night brings. Gasping. Rasping. Blustering for breath. The tempest is prepared and ready to cover the world. People begin to sense the change in mood even more and hide behind the nearest tree or bush. The biggest trees and threats get struck by lightning first. Wind fills the lungs and the breath is damp, overwhelming, and thick. Soon a friend comes near and apologizes for whatever she thinks she has done. Exhale. Breathe out. Blow the air away. Calm returns and the gale is over so soon after its beginning. Shame and regret fill the spirit instead. A smile with all colors shines over the landscape of the face and so ends a perfect storm. This is dedicated to Sarah and Thomas Kinkade (err!). |
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| End With a Rainbow |
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