The lake darkened with the screams of townspeople. They had no idea what to except. The wind was biting at their limbs and catching their cursed mumbles. They moved fast. Scattering beneath hungered clouds, as the sky screeched. The noise echoed through the valley, splitting swaying trees and cracking highways.
“Don’t be frightened Franklin.” A man said, gazing down at his child. “It’s only the angels bowling.”
The red-head little boy looked up at him. His eyes threatening with tears. “Father, if I must why is it only raining across the hill?”
The man adverted his posture. He didn’t want his son to know his tell. Slumped shoulders. And he also didn’t want his son to know the reason why, but he couldn’t speak lies, not to him. “Global warming.” He nodded, swallowing hard. As if that motion would bury his past. A scientist past.
“The rain, Father. It’s almost laughing down. At those people. It’s not wrathful?”
The man laughed and finished tying the boat cover down. The rope was too old to hold a knot, but the duck tape wasn’t. And the son was too short to help, but tall enough to be ordered aside. “It’s not a religious matter son, just human error.”
“I understand.” Franklin said, with a hollow voice. He knew what his father wanted to hear and it also made his appearance less threatening when he gets a glimpse of whatever lives inside his fathers boat.
Written by Alecia Writes.