Thunder in Writing Prompts | World Anvil
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Thunder

1,...2,...3,...4,... Boom. 
  The strom grows closer.
  The grey sky weeping down upon the earth.
  Wheels parting the puddles like Moses.
  The calm inbetween the crashing drums.
  Leading to quickening pulses when they strike.
  Yet peace returns just as quickly. 
  1,...2,...3,...4, Boom.

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