fiction

I ran like hell. Almost made it. The darkening sky took on an ominous tone. Naked trees became fluid, writhing silhouettes in the wind. Between gasps to fill my lungs with the hot air, I imagined that the branches were spelling druidic curses in the air. If only I knew the code. If only there was some magical way to understand the symbols and with a few, choice words mitigate the impending destruction.

And then I stopped. I understood. This was nature. This was cleansing on a grand scale, and this dirty old world deserved nothing less.

The rain came.

In our imagination all roads lead to an ancient town that caters to travelers such as us. Its dusty streets take us to the old section where the buildings blend with each other and the well-worn pavement. There is a narrow alley that you discovered a long time ago, although hardly anyone else seems to know of its existence. The doors are all closed and unmarked, but it is not difficult to pick out the small one made of oak planks that were ancient when the walls were new. You enter the dark space within quietly, reverently closing the door behind you.