Emilio Diaz

A Past Whisper

The rapid, almost non-stop pattering of the rain hitting the old barn's roof stopped at nothing in its vicious assault. Jerit paused only for a brief moment to look out his window from his small cabin to look outside as a stray crack from a not-so-distant thunderbolt lit up the night sky as bright as morning sunrise. As the crack hit the distance, he could almost swear to hear a voice, far-off and hoarse it seemed. “Remember yourself”, it seemed to say. As if the lightning was angry at the earth and each hit from the storm would elicit a curse from the ancient element. Could lightning speak? Or was it a whisper from his mind? An internal word of protest brought almost to his lips, perhaps, for the brash audacity of the thunder and rain.