local to local
We went walking just as dusk gave way to dark. Deep bruising clouds in the distance occasionally illuminated by lightning veins, but the thunder report was long in coming and the air was still. We kept walking...not far, but nearly to the bridge. A ruffle of wind around the ears suggested it was time to turn back. And just in the act of turning our bodies toward home, the wind gained force and a drop of rain hit the back of my neck. All down Wilson street our pace picked up matching the increasing wind speed. Cutting through the old fire hall yard to save a minute and working toward a trot on 2nd street the purple clouds at our heels the wind pushing branches stiffly east. Lightning flashed behind us, but when it flashed in front we each took our own pace and ran for the school house door. Nothing dearer than escaped danger.