THE EPICENTRE OF THE STORM is at best twenty kilometres away, and intense electric currents surge around every limb of his body. He does not stop; he cannot stop. There is just no time. Thousands of feet below him, through the thick water vapour that forms the cumulonimbus clouds that he now soars amidst, he can detect what would be the occasional skyscraper. Cities… threatening reminders of human existence—humans that have stripped the planet of its beauty and splendour.
The electricity grows thicker the further he flies. As the hair on his body stands up on end, his skin begins to tingle. The upright hairs further attract water vapour to his skin. He becomes drenched in a hurry.
Gone are the days when he could bathe in a rainfall. Now, thanks to excessive pollution, showering in the rain only makes him feel contaminated and jaded.
Up ahead, bolts of lightning strew across the sky, electrical discharges resulting in heart-stopping claps of thunder. The sound waves do not reach him for almost fifteen seconds.
A short time later, he is at the heart of the storm. Most might consider what he is doing a suicidal act, but he is unable to waste time by circling the storm. He must overlook his uneasiness. Soon enough, he will be through. The kinetic energy of the molecules surrounding his body is so riveting that he cannot remember ever having felt so alive and powerful.
Rain begins to pound him towards the earth, impeding his ability to fly. A few more kilometres and he will be out of the storm’s core. It is not far.
He suddenly senses an unnerving increase of electrical current around his body, in his body, for that matter. Dread transforms into anticipation.
A blinding light engulfs him and his limbs seize, his muscles so beleaguered by energy that they have become spastic with contractions. Seconds later, consciousness flees him.
© Lindsay Mawson 2010