The Storm

The temperature dropped significantly. The rugged pale man with opera pink cheeks stood gazing into the distance. The wind whipped his face and his silky locks danced to a familiar tempo. He chanted with a passion a song only a lonely man was capable of utterance.

"If only I knew what to do. My soul wretches with sickened ferocity at the thought of parting from my love...Oh mio Colomba.She was fairer than lilies, richer than the richest riches. Oh Fair Lady, where did you go? I long to see your fair sweet face and embrace ye once more."

His sharp hazel green eyes brimmed with unshed tears. He wiped pointlessly at the hot streaks that streamed down his nose bridge and cheeks. The storm took on a new meaning to the lovesick middle-aged man. "Oh che peccato!" he exclaimed in lamentation. If only he could have turned the spoke wheels of time back then. He bellowed, "Se solo sapessi! Se solo sapessi!" The air took on an unspoken ferocity and a blinding light sliced the air. KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!" Lightning slammed into the tree and the tree fell apart. It eerily rocked and slammed into him. He fell to the ground with a thud and blacks out while the storm became more fierce each second. The chilling droplets traversed over and around the unconcious man while also puddling around his heels. The wind howls in the background as a stooped aged woman entered the scene.

A stinging slap was heard. "WAKE UP Albert, haven't all day to wait on a fool as the likes of you!" She slapped him again into awareness. He groaned and wobbled to his feet.

Droplets of rain cascaded down off him and his garments. The old woman gave him a toothy grin and tilted her head to the side.

"And what caused my young screpolatura to be out in the Dannazione weather like that?"

"Oh, Uh?!" He stammered and was speechless. His cheeks flamed up a scarlet lake hue and he coughed. The old woman shook her boney finger at him and beckoned him to follow her.

"Come come! The least I can do is make sure some hot grub and tea warms your bones. Look at you...all wet!"

He followed her to her cottage where he warmed up in front of a wood fireplace. The old woman gathered some dried fruit, wild mushrooms, roasted soap plant, a slab of venison, and then proceeded to chop them up finely. All the ingredients are then thrown into the bubbling black large pot, that hanged over the fire. The old woman then turned to the man and asked "Only my son who had little common sense or had something on his mind would do something like you did earlier. "Spill it is this the case?"

He choked on his tea and then shifted in his chair.

"ALBERT HOTHFIELD FERDINAND, only my son who was in love would be headless like you. Love does strange things to those who are ensnared by it's power. The old woman got up from her stool and walked to her son. She then proceeded to pinch his cheeks playfully and then kissed his brow. "My son, be careful that your heart doesn't get bruised or broken by the woman you have set in your heart. Women are fickle creatures, and tend to have a habit to change like the seasons or the wind." She then looked deeply into his eyes and brushed some stray locks off his temples. "But there are a few out there that are steadfast and can be trusted with their man's purse. Come come! It is time for you to get some rest now because you have yet another long day ahead of you." She took some objects of little intrest off the bed. The old woman tucked him in and went back to the fire. She tossed a pine log on the flames in the fireplace. The flames rose with the added fuel and the sap hisses. The weathered woman sat back in her old rocking chair and a storm brewed in her somber eyes.