Written by Leighann Leigh

Photograph by   Lode Lagrainge

Photograph by Lode Lagrainge

Dark clouds fill the long Kansas sky. She stands, waiting. Her floral farm dress bellows in the warm wind. She shifts her emerald eyes to the rusting burn behind her. Thinking this will be her saviour. She looks back at me, just as the sky turns black. She parts her ruby red lips to say “ There’s a storm coming.”

As we sit in the barn, there is an abundant smell of grain and hay that lingers among the rotting flooring below us. I start to shiver as a cold breeze rushes through the slats. You can hear the lighting striking. It’s almost too dark to see anything. All we can see is the bright flashes, and hear the sky screaming down. It’s getting closer…

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