-ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛- ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ "=⌕ stormy nights / short story ༉‧₊˚✧ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ !NF0 ↳ This was a creative writing prompt from my teacher for an assignment in class..."start a story with it was a dark and stormy night" so here we go! ༉‧₊˚✧ ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ It was a dark and stormy night in mid October. The rain was pelting down on the concrete sidewalks, and the wind was twisting the thin trees planted on lawns and the roses and violets in flower beds hung on windows. Thunder cracked in the distance, illuminating the rural town a bright, neon purple for a split second before fading. Droplets raced down windows, and the sound was quite soothing when inside. Nobody was outside in this horrid weather. Some had tried, but their umbrella’s got turned inside out or they had stepped a little too hard in a puddle and splashed their new raincoat. Because of these facts, everyone on the street stayed indoors. Janie Marlow was seated in her library in the tower of her house. The curtains were open, the rain on the window fitting the cozy aesthetic. Janie had a thick book in her lap as she sat in her velvet plush armchair she had purchased at a Value Village a while back. Her dog, Bennie, who was a very playful and energetic caramel brown toy poodle, had just dashed up the stairs, slipped through the crack in the door to the home library and bounced over to his owner. Bennie jumped up to the armchair and chose Janie’s lap as the perfect place for a nap. Janie used one hand to stroke Ben’s head and the other to flip the page in her book. George and Kayla Brown were in the living room of their house, number 119 on the street, and were playing Monopoly together. George was the older one at age 11, more wise in the knowledge of saving and counting money. Their mother had said the game was about capitalism, but George was still too young to understand that yet. Kayla, at simply age 5, had to stand on her wooden chair to see the board while George was tall enough to sit. The curtains were closed here, but the sound of rain still echoed slightly in the well-lit room. Kayla and George had planned to go to the park and have some fun on the swingsets, as they always did on Sunday afternoons, but their parents had said no because of the thunderstorm raging outside. The living room was large, with a couch behind the dining table facing the door, and an entryway to the kitchen where their mother was cooking dinner. One brave figure, Mr. John, had gone outside, decked out in a raincoat, boots, a hat firmly stuck on his head, and trousers he didn’t care much for if ruined. He had gone outside because his dog Fluffles (named by his granddaughter Johanna) had begged him for a walk. The golden retriever happily splashed in puddles, and Mr. John had only brought his umbrella as a shield from the splash, not from the rain that was sure to drench it or the wind that was sure to turn it inside out and in need of a fix. Mr. John had reluctantly agreed to go outside, grumbling the entire time as he got ready, but now, seeing his dog so playful and happy in her element had begun to thaw at his horrible mood. The storm continued to rage on outside, the rain falling heavier and staining the concrete a darker gray. The clouds didn’t seem to be passing anytime soon, so many would be falling asleep with the sound of lightning and rain outside. ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ - ', thanks for reading! ꒱ ↷ here's a cookie []
