A red sunset fades into the blue-grey waters of the Gulf of Mexico replaced by a wicked wind and the flash and sound of a coming storm. The flimsy brush on the small island whips wild. The tent flutters mad. The boy’s dog cowers on the small seashell covered beach illuminated by the boom and crack of a bolt of blue lightning streaking from out of a sudden hostile sky.
Rain falls hard.
Ropes of deadly electricity fall violently from the sky.
Thunder rolls loud and obscene.
The tiny dots of yellow lights from the shore, a half-mile away, disappear into the blackness of the squall.
It could be midnight in Hell.
Then the storm is gone.
Replaced by a sweet cool breeze and a star speckled night and a dog glued to a thirteen year old boy’s leg as if born there.