storms
As all the best storms do, this one started with the quietest of rumbling in the distance. All day the air had been dense, and it had felt more like swimming than walking once I left the safety of my house. Thankfully, the disgruntled grumbling storm rolled through, pushing away the sticky humidity that coated my lungs, bringing with it the fresh scent of summer. The cicadas hadn't given up their humming yet, unwilling to give up their chance to be heard despite the oncoming downpour. With each rumble, they hushed, only to pick up again once they felt they were safe. The traveling thunder rolled upon me, at last bringing the gentle kisses of rain.
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