Storm Clouds
There seemed little hope for the small town. Red dust blew down streets, gathered in corners and piled against stoic paint shredded buildings. Slate grey clouds gathered and billowed in the blue, blue sky. Clouds ominous and slashed by spikes of lightning. The town sat in the middle of the prairie, stolid and sure. Storms of rain or wind hadn’t moved anything more than a few shingles or fence boards. There were lights on in homes surrounding Main Street, residents wisely remained in doors as the storm threatened. It was not the first storm to bear down on their small town. It would not be the last. Hope resided behind those closed doors. Families hunkered down, gathering their reserves and prepared for the storm that was to come.
“There is always a storm. There is always rain. Some experience it.
Some live through it. And others are made from it.”
~ Shannon L. Alder
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