red sky in the morning
fiction
edward w pritchard
I enjoy the thrill of an ominous red sky in the morning harbinger of howling winds and thunderous rains.
Never, I hope, will storms be decoded to numerical predictions of banality by newscasters using mathematical formula's on the television to foretell natures upcoming fury.
Like a small lemur, our ancient ancestor, in my cave I wait for the hard and furious upcoming storm.
Blow winds blow.
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