It's cozy inside as the rain falls on the roof and windows. The water sloshes down the drainpipes and splashes on the gravel driveway. I'm sitting in my chair, reading through some magazines, listening to some soft music, looking at my old journals. I look through some notes about a project I'm working on, a project I should really finish sometime. Occasionally, I get up to stretch my legs, or perhaps to get a little tea, and peer out the window at the tempest outside.
I return to my comfortable chair and my reading and my music. It's nice to be inside where it's dry. After a few minutes, it sounds like the storm is really kicking up outside. The wind is blowing the drops against the windows. They're hitting hard, almost like hale. I hope the power doesn't go out. There's fresh meat in the refrigerator upstairs, and I don't want to have to get the generator going again.
A flash of light and then thunder rattles the windows. The power of it is so awe inspiring. There's another strike, then, after a moment, another, close enough that I can hear the thunder crackle like foil.
It looks like it's time. I climb the stairs and take the meat out of the fridge. I throw the switches. The machinery crackles into sparks and motion. I stand on the platform with my project as it rises up through the opening in the ceiling. Lightening flashes again and again.
IT'S ALIVE!
If you're keeping score at home, I've done a story about a vampire, a monster, a psychotic Smurf, an evil genius and now Victor Frankenstein. What can I say? I write what I know.
This work by Timothy H. Ruppel is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
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