It was a humid New England summer. The people felt a crushing sensation brought upon them by an oppressive force. They were feeling a loss of control, a sense of longing for happier, less frightening times.
The rain began.
And it poured. Heavy, loud drops soaked the unkempt hair those who were able to leave their homes and find their ways to work. Caused the ocean tides to surge. Opened up puddles so large that even the bravest child was afraid to hop in it with their shiny rain boots.
And the thunder came.
And the people remembered the strength they’d once known. They huddled together under shared umbrellas with flowers and daisies scattered over them. They made eye contact with the person at the coffeeshop who poured their coffee.
The lightening shown across the sky a moment later.
And the people – feeling braver now – remembered that they are brave. And that coming together was the best way to defeat the oppressive force. They smiled at their co-workers. Messaged a friend. Hugged their family.
Later, the rain stopped. The clouds cleared. And the people were ready to fight.