“Tell me more about the impending storm, it will rage, I feel it, yet I can not explain its nature.”

She sat back, her gaze fixed out the large windows in the center room. They focused on the darkness looming in the near distance. She sighed and began again.

“What is it about storms? They bring signs and bring warning, yet once they are upon us, they leave nothing. They batter and deplete their surroundings, leaving only the strongest to stand. The rest to recover and grow once more with time”

I simply couldn’t come up with something appropriate to answer. So I sat silent. Watching. Listening.

“Do you see? Tell me you see! Tell me you understand the nature. Tell me you know of the strength it takes to withstand a storm. I know you can see it, do you know it, can you feel it?”

With this she sat and gazed sadly out the window. I gazed sadly out the window. In silence I turned to her mirrored reflection and simply watched, waiting for the thoughts and swell to pass… I wanted so much to answer, but I knew she would know.

I was feeling for the answers, reaching for the courage to face my other… I was grasping for something. Anything. And then I began,

“The storm is upon us now, it shall pass. I know not how long it will last, I know only of the warnings and signs of which you speak. I know only of the hallowed reflection I gaze upon in that mirror… and as storms pass, so do the reflections of moments which matter. I see you now… but do I?”

I stopped. As I stood there, looking in the direction of my outstretched arm. I saw it, once more. I saw it for what it had become. What it was going to be. I saw its nature.

Would I let it be? That is the question. That is the reality.

“… through the window you see me, you see what I do not. You see the storm, feel the power, feel the meaning… and know… yet what I feel is so much greater. It burns in my hallowed chest. It rings in my detached thoughts. The truth. I see its nature. Yet to see is not enough. To feel is not enough. It is in understanding that we truly can be…”

“Truly can be what?”

Her voice rang clearly in the silence of my mind. Her eyes were haunting my thoughts. Her gaze penetrating.

“You know.”

I simply watched  the seconds passed as she reflected, the minutes as she mused and then she knew. A faint smile graced her beautiful face. I felt better. So then did she.

“Yes… I suppose I do…”

With that she turned back to her window in the center room. The rain had begun.

10 responses to “Storms

  1. I like your prose. Your dialogue works very well. There is good separation and you can define each characters as an individual. You also made good use of allusion as you create an irony between the action, the dialogue, and the “storm.” It flows very well and the ending is a good cliff-hanger, you leave it out there–hopelessly hopeful. Very nicely done, my Creative Writing Professor would like this. Your very first line, the opener, I thought was very quotable. I think it sets the pace of allusion very well.
    I was told that I should be a creative editor. However, I’m horrible these days after taking so many writing classes that I tend to look for grammatical and structural errors. I have a very old-school way of editing grammar. Be that as it may, I was also told that “creative writing” there aren’t necessarily any rules. Although, were I to edit this I would say, despite that it has become common place to do so, to watch starting sentences with conjunctions. I got hung on that by an editor once and ever since then it’s something that really stands out for me personally.
    I would also say to not be afraid to use more dialogue tags, just be creative and don’t let them become redundant like using “he said, she said” all the time. Separating dialogue can be tricky and yet there are many ways to do it. Dialogue personifies your characters. You really have to step into that character’s emotional skin. I would try not to separate the characters by using italics like you have here, but use italics for thought and unspoken dialogue. Even so, you have done a very nice job of defining your characters.
    I probably shouldn’t nit-pick, it’s very well written, but my goal was to be an editor. I try to look for the best of a person work and point out their strengths, then I have to go back and approach it like my 8th grade English teacher. I drive my professors crazy because I keep editing their assignments. Haha! Still, this is very nice and I think you should flesh it out a little more, create a chapter. What happened before this, what happened after? You have a good start on a movella here.

    • Hi Charles. Thanks so much for taking the time to review this. I am a amateur writer with a dream of publishing. Maybe one day. It meant a great deal to read your critique. Thanks again. Enreal

      • If you have any grammatical questions I am more than happy to help.

        I think the best teacher overall is simply to read and incorporate other people’s thoughts, styles, and ideas. In fact, stealing from yours.elf will produce new ideas.
        T.S. Elliot said–Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal. Despite what anyone says about it, we write what we read. It’s kind of like this:

        Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery—celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Goddard said: “It’s not where you take things from—it’s where you take them to.” – Jim Jarmusch

        Also–Never write with the intention of publishing. It burdens the soul.


      • Hi Charles. As always great insight and much appreciated. Thanks for taking the time and I probably will take you up on the offer. 🙂

  2. Hello my freind..
    Have a Nice Weekend..
    Kiss and hugs..

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