Yet another summer week and once again the air is filled with a warm humidity; that is refreshing if there’s wind. Clouds were forming in the distance, the kind that was menacingly tall, wide and very dark. Even before the last waning oasis of clear sky had been vanquished, a loud boom sounded of into the distance, was it thunder? A monster having roared awake from its slumber? Before the Sun could spirit way to the safety of the horizon it had been swallowed whole, not even a single ray of sunshine was able to permeate through the thick blanket it was now enveloped in.
A bolt of lightning struck and claimed its first victim. A poor lone tree in the fields, one that had been blow apart and exploded outward with sap and bark now littering what was once a rather pristine sea of green. A second later, the roar of thunder stretched across the sky and it sounded hungry. Rain drenched the ground with an energized vigour.
The storm continued for hours, it was so captivating to behold such a magnificence natural event; from with in the safety of bricks, mortar and pains of glass. Each strike was so beautiful, not just visually but because each one is unique from the last. Each proceeding boom terrifying though, as it shook the the houses, as well as the very air in any onlooker’s lungs. Like the sirens in ancient mythology, it drew in new inquisitive bodies to participant together in witnessing something so deadly and foreboding.
Yet as soon as the electrical spectacular had swept across, it was gone. Faint murmurs of what it used to be, now dissipated from beyond sight. The show was over and as awesome as it had been to witness, it left those watching wanting more. No mortal could ever hope to stay a beast so malevolent, those who would be foolish to try would feel it’s wrath.
Jagged bolts scar the sky
Conjured forth from vast darkness
Cosmic rage brought forth
Prompt: #4 – 1,000 Creative Writing Prompts for Seasons – Bryan Cohen © 2012
Laura Steel ©2015
Yet another sunny day and once again my friend and I went outside to play during our half-term . After about an hour of running around playing outside, we had the novel idea of having a water fight to cool off. We managed to run home even under the extreme heat to plead our case for what could have been a really fun day. However, unbeknownst to us at the time, our county was subject to a hose-pipe ban. We asked what this meant while trying to get over our immediate disappointment at being told simply “no”. It was hard to believe that where we lived we would suffer a drought, although this was fairly obvious from the yellow patchy grass we had been playing on. You get told about these other countries that have droughts because they are nothing but deserts and sand dunes, not likes places like where we live that are practically always raining.
After about twenty minutes off relentless nagging our mum caved in, she said we would be allowed to have a small water-gun fight. The excitement was immense. It didn’t even twig that she might get into trouble for using water so wastefully but at that age we didn’t care. We immediately ran to the shed in pure elation and grabbed the plastic weaponry from off the floor, dusting off what was a blanket of spider weave all over it. We flooded back to the kitchen, which was our first direct source of water. We were barely outside for five minutes before we ran out of ammo and rushed back to reload, only to be halted by our diligent guardian who told us to go change…
…Its hard to believe at that age that what we wanted to waste water so effortlessly, so casually; the source of every living thing on this planet. You don’t really care about it either, not that you are fully aware though that hundreds of thousands of people a year die from dirty water or dehydration, and here we were wasting it. I’m not sure whether to look back now with fond happy memories or guilt…
Essence of all life
Clean water – precious resource
Taken for granted
Prompt: #3 – 1,000 Creative Writing Prompts for Seasons – Bryan Cohen © 2012
Laura Steel © 2015
HIt was half-term and for the holidays this year my parents actually forked out for a proper trip to the seaside. We were going for the week, staying at a small hotel they had booked using their savings. Along with mum, my sister and myself, dad drove us all for hours just to get there but we didn’t mind. It was the first holiday we all had together, one that we were all old enough to remember.
After arriving at the hotel and checked in, we immediately unpacked and settled into our temporary accommodation, taking an hour or so before we then left for the beach; which was overlooked by our rooms windows. The first thing my sister and myself done when we got their was take off my shoes and socks. I just loved the feeling of the sand on my feet; the almost silky feeling was so pleasant and relaxing as my feet sunk into and were swallowed whole into the grainy loose floor.
We stopped near the wall furthest area away from the water’s edge. Mum flung out a blanket for us to sit on while dad prepared the picnic we were going to have. All I remember is wanting to rush out to the water and splash about but we were abruptly stayed. Mum had ordered us to sit down while she lathered our backs with a sunscreen. At the time I never really understood why, when I questioned mum she merely said it was to protect us but divulged no further into how.
I’ll always be fond of this holiday, it was such a great time for all of us as we all had so much fun. It always saddens me that we will never have that sort of time together again. I suppose as time goes on things change, as do people. I only hope that one day, when I have kids of my own, my family will have that same time together, being happy. The need for nostalgic relived moments like that are a powerful thing to resist.
Happy times are rare
Cherished memories fade slow
Protected by love
Prompt: #2 – 1,000 Creative Writing Prompts for Seasons – Bryan Cohen © 2012
Laura Steel © 2015
It was that horrible time of year again, during mid July. Apparently it is the hottest Summer we’ve had for years. I can’t stand this heat, I never have, there’s just no end to it. Its relentless. Where ever you go, what ever you do, its there…haunting you; its like some poltergeist that’s hell bent on scaring you out of your skin, only in this case sweating. I much prefer being too cold and having the option to wrap up than being unable to escape the unrelenting ambient warmth that can’t be quelled even with the strongest of electronic fans.
Everything was ok up until last week, we could just about manage. We had this rather decent air conditioner, pumping that ice cold relief into our home; it precariously sat perched on the window sill. That sweet chilled air was such a welcomed break from the relentlessness of Summers worst boon. Alas, it packed up. Now we are here, sticking to the furniture like insects cemented to fly paper, trying to forget the sweltering heat that we have been enveloped in, that is making us feel so lethargic and bored. We can’t even afford a new one because dad needed new tyres on his car and the vet bill from our poor cat has hampered any hope for a new one. I do hope this heat will relent before we all melt like poor snowmen on a beach.
A heat that won’t quit
No escape from the fever
The Sun’s blaze baths all
Prompt: #1 – 1,000 Creative Writing Prompts for Seasons – Bryan Cohen © 2012
Laura Steel © 2015