Storm

(For a newer draft of this story, click here.)

The air was thin and swept along in folds across the street. Refuse danced along the cement after being liberated from trashcans by resurgent gusts. The western sky bubbled with bulging grey clouds spilling upon the humid atmosphere in front of it.

A solitary figure walked alongside the road in a tired town. Neither his pace nor expression were affected by the unfolding storm. The wind tousled his hair and cooled his scalp. On occasion, he passed scurrying figures frantically taking down umbrellas, rolling up windows, or bringing in pets.

Why are people frightened? We are on the verge of a merciful reprieve. Don’t they want to be witness to it?

He paid no mind to the dangerous sense of change around him. He zealously waited for the unleashing of a torrent. The oppressive summer heat would soon be vanquished, if only for a few hours. He pictured himself walking along the front lines of the elemental battle. Intermittent drops heralded like cavalry horns the marching regiments of rain and artillery of lightning.

He acknowledged to himself there was a trace of madness in the timing of his walk. There is energy in madness and madness in play, he thought. Energy and play constituted the greater parts of his soul.

The leaves on the elm trees near him fluttered and the branches floundered in the wind. Dust peppered his face, kicked up by the swirling air. Droplets struck his shoulders. One collided with his cheek and a cool streak trailed behind.

It is good to be playful sometimes. Without it, you may be deceived into thinking you retain more power than you do. Playfulness is the acknowledgment of radical freedom. It is a recognition that at times there is no greater end to our actions than the actions themselves. The border between playfulness and recklessness is the presence of harm. Art is harmless and debauchery is harmful and so art if playful and debauchery is reckless.

Minor vibrations sent from a thunder clap reverberated through his feet. On cue, rain started to fall with regularity. Soon, everything was distorted by a sheer curtain of water pouring past it or bouncing off of it. The man’s clothes darkened a shade upon absorption. His gait remained steady and his gaze transfixed. He was glad to be alive.