Rain-soaked streets, a very familiar sight, as every outing has been the same drenching fate. Wrapped in a raincoat, head squashed inside the hood, I quickly walked down the lanes - I couldn't be late.
Lightning sliced the darkened skies
A brief white flash before my eyes.
"Light travels faster" - a memory lingered. Mr Snowden standing in the class room. He was short, stout with round glasses, and his hair I believe were slightly gingered. I recalled his grin, an attempt of engagement, even though everyone were already half-asleep at that moment. "And that's why we see lightning before thunder." He said. And somehow, those words did stick to my head.
Thunder boomed then, a mighty deafening roar. I hadn't heard it up close before. My heart raced as I picked up my pace. I was the mouse in a cat and mouse chase.
Fleeing. Leaping. Sprinting.
I tried to escape the giant's second shout, but my waterlogged shoes held me back, as if telling me that there was no way out. And rightfully so, it occurred again. But this time, more loud and angry.
Monstrous.
I felt small- vulnerable. Haplessly praying for it to stop. Shrieks and screaming then caught my ear as I crossed the road and towards the school. Parents shielded their kids under canopies, providing safety and refuge from the ghastly ghoul.
I zigzagged my way through the hundred heads, hail now pounding on me, heavy like led. And beneath the bricked shelter where many people stood, I noticed the tearful eyes under the dinosaur hood.
Fear had gripped his small frame as he buried his head into mine, trying to hide. He looked to the sky. Another uproar. Trembling, he closed his eyes.
"Don't be scared. It's ok." A word of reassurance. Soft and gentle from the friend by his side. "Everything's fine." He whispered low, my brother's fear then calming, I could feel it show.
His little sister, only a year old, kicked her feet through the raincover. Her toothless grin, wide and bright, she giggled like no other. Her tiny hands against the transparent film, droplets hitting softly against her palm. She sat in the pushchair, now amazed by the sight, she gurgled and wiggled - ever so calm. And just for a moment then, amidst the gloominess of the day, she served as a delight, as happy as a fay.
The rain's wild beat eventually started to cease. A hush in the storm, a chance to release. We siezed the moment, dashing for home, his hands clasped into mine, tight to the bone.
We darted and made our run, out of the school gates and into the rain-soaked sun. Cars drove by, a splashy test, puddles so deep - we had an avoidance contest. Dodging, observing, patiently timing, we leaped, laughed and ran like lightning.
Then, a flash of yellow, I started to grin. "Yellow car! Punch!" we both shouted to win. In perfect sync, we punched each other, before gasping, chuckling and then holding one another.
Homeward bound we set off to stride, our own little storm survived.