Destruction of a Windy Day

Far off in the distance, behind the cliff where wind perched, the mountains settled into rolling plains. Across the horizon, a wall began forming, dark and ominous. Made of an entirely different type of cloud then those that rain played in above the ocean or the fluffy ones in whose folds the sun snoozed. Wind knew that hail hid in the dark folds of these vapors and electricity sizzled, waiting to be set free. Storm had come out to play and wind eagerly raced from the cliffside to join in.

Nothing blocked wind as it picked up speed across the plains. It raced faster and faster, reaching speeds that made the few trees in the area bow as easily as the grasses in the meadow had. Storm flashed a bright welcome across the sky to wind, its gleeful roar crashing through the once still air. Wind laughed riotously, its shriek carrying for miles across the flatlands below. Storm began producing little balls of hail, letting wind whisk them about, slamming them into rocks, trees, and houses. The hail grew larger, but wind had new energy and easily tossed the balls of ice about, cracking windows, knocking shingles from rooftops, and pummeling the few people who had not been smart enough to hide indoors.

Storm crackled brightly, its laughter rolling over the plains. Wind pirouetted gleefully around storm. Storm sliced through the sky pointing a fiery finger at a tree. Spinning about at top speed, wind rushed to the tree, ripping it, roots and all, from the ground and tossed it to storm. Storm cackled evilly as it dropped the tree into a nearby barn, smashing both into tiny pieces of tinder. Wind continued picking up everything it danced past, tossing them to storm. Storm dropped a cow into the top branches of a sycamore tree, slammed a plow into the attic of a farm house, and scattered trees across the fields.

A little dizzy, wind stopped spinning for a moment and sprinted through the corn rows, shouting with glee. Storm crashed through the sky over and over, pointing fiery fingers at trees, cattle, and other toys for wind to pick up, then growling angrily when wind insisted on resting.

Storm’s bright white fire split through the air again, highlighting a small farm house. Wind rustled past it in contemplation. Storm’s rumbling laughter filled the sky as it flashed its fire at the house a second time, then a third. Wind picked up speed racing around and around in ever tighter circles, pirouetting across the plains in violent elegance. The little farm house lifted easily from its foundation, the sound of its splintering tinder swallowed by the riotous laughter of the two violent friends. Wind tossed it about playfully, lifting it higher and higher into the sky before tossing it to storm. Both chortled elatedly as storm drove the little structure in to the side of a small hill.

Wind slowed, taking a gentler pass about the plain, sweeping over the mess below with quiet satisfaction as the cow mooed plaintively from the top of the sycamore tree. Storm seemed to be losing energy. It tossed a few small balls of hail about half-heartedly, then flashed a final farewell to wind as it laughter rolled one last time at the destruction the two had created. Then storm folded itself into a ball of steel grey clouds and rolled off to take an early evening nap.

Wind flitted languidly back across the plains, over the mountains, and came to rest on the edge on the cliff sighing with exhaustion. Without storm, there was truly nothing to do, and worse, no reason to do it.