CHAPTER 66: flashback: a thief
Flashback.
The winter sky was a widow’s sky, bedarkened and weeping. The clouds were churlish and kraken-cruel. They coughed out great gouts of water and thunking balloons of sopping moisture. It is a Noah’s-Ark cataclysm of rain, an unending cataract of water sluicing from the sky.
Trees were uprooted, cars went bobbing by and the entire city disappeared under a frothy lather of suds.
The city was overwhelmed and electricity blackouts had people living in fear of the unknown. The rain was incessant. It snapped and crackled like bracken pods in a bush fire. The flood-gates in the sky had been opened and no-one was there to close them back up.
The rain was man’s new enemy, according to news reports. It was public enemy number one. It had betrayed man and was now the most destructive arrow in nature’s quiver.