The Storm

It smells... like the air is heavy, like that smell of the dew that happens right before and after a storm. It smells like rain. It tastes... like emptiness. There is no real taste but dense, heavy air, waiting to let go and let the storm come. It sounds... like almost silence. When you close your eyes, all you can hear is the wind, the branches crackling as they dance in it. You can hear your soft footsteps ever so slightly on the cool, wet ground. It sounds like the storm has yet to arrive. It feels... like a huge weight on your shoulders. The heavy air, the strong wind, and the light rain that is starting to fall... they all feel like burdens on your heart and soul. The tree feels like some sort of God trying to protect its young: the flowers, the cement steps, the young girl, and even the weeds. Yet no matter how hard they all try, the storm is coming. You can just feel it.