Adams 1

The Thunder Rolls

Thunder slowly crackles above the Earth. Heralded by the soft endless patter of rain and
flashes of white lightening, it makes itself known to the sleepy town below. The constant tapping
of rain on the dark gritty roof can barely be heard over the deep rumblings of thunder. Slowly the
rain slithers down the shingles, seeking crevices, cracks, anything to extend its journey. The
droplets come quickly finding a small termite infested hole. Through the black musty attic, filled
with dust covered artifacts, the tepid water falls, pooling in small rotten nest of pink insulation
and oak wood. Slowly, the water seeps through the wood, both rotting it further and finding one
last drop, this time into a small brown plastic bucket. In the small windowed room, the hard
thump of water on plastic seems louder than the constant downfall outside.
The room seems gray, lit only by what little sunlight makes its way through the onyx
clouds. The tattered, white screen door hangs open slightly, and creaks as an old orange tabby
stumbles in, dripping wet from the storm outside. The tabby flicks its one good green eye up; the
other shadowed by the milky cover of a cataract. A young man sits in one of the two pinewood
rocking chairs, oblivious to the tabby he stares into the storm. The tabby saunters over, its wet
pads leaving small paw prints on the rough brown rug; softly it mews. The man suddenly snaps
out of his reverie, looks down at the tabby. He smiles and opens his arms. The tabby seizes the
moment, jumps into the mans lap, stretches for a moment and settles on him. The man chuckles
lightly as the tabbys wet fur soaks his jeans, his nose wrinkles a bit at the smell of wet cat, but
nevertheless he smiles and begins to gently pet the tabby. Fur sheds in damp clumps, sticking to
the mans otherwise clean hand.

Adams 3

The tabby lovingly purrs as the tall two legged creature strokes him, smoothing his rough
wet fur. The man frowns a bit as the wet cat fur sticks to his hand rather than the cat; he rubs his
hand on his blue collared shirt in a futile attempt to remove the offending fur. Meanwhile the
tabby beings to rub its head against the right leg of its jeans, soaking him with a combination of
affection and rain. The man chuckles lightly and pushes the floor with the tips of his loafers.
Slowly the creaking of the rocking chair fills the dark porch. The slow creak reverberates off the
dimly lit kitchen counter, tools and appliances sitting on top of it, dusty due lack of use.
The thunder booms above as lightning exposes the world outside. The mans hands
suddenly begin to tremble as the storm moves over, enveloping him. Slowly the man draws his
right hand away from the cat, and instead rubs an old scar on his back left shoulder. His hand
clenches his shoulder tightly as the lightening dances above the world once again. His breaths
quicken, his nostrils flare, and his whole body begins to shake. His deep green eyes dilate as the
sound of the thunderstorm beats on the porch windows. His right hand slowly moves off his
shoulder and weakly grasps at his chest. The metallic smell of blood touches his nose as he bites
into his lip.
Suddenly, a new sound turns his attention away from the ache in his chest. The mans
eyes dart down to the tabby, still in his lap, purring softly and staring up at him quizzically .The
tabby presses his head into the mans chest, insistently rubbing his worn flannel shirt. The mans
hand slowly resumes petting his friend and companion; his breaths now come more relaxed and
controlled. The trembling in his hands recedes as the cat once again lies in his lap, settling in for
a nap.

Adams 3

Outside the storm continues to beat against the windows; overhead thunder gives a sharp
crack, and once again the mans hands freeze up. The tension returns to his muscles as quickly as
it had left. A soft groan escapes the mans lips. The tabby perks its head up and purrs louder. The
man lets out a sigh of relief and the tension and stress in the mans body left him. He picks up the
tabby and hugs the warm comforting creature. Outside the cold and rain continues to beat on the
home and seep through the roof. The thunder and lightning clash above the world in an epic
display. The black clouds suppress the light from the sun and shroud the world in gray. Yet on
that small dark porch, in a pinewood rocking chair, a man and his tabby are only aware of each
other.