*** Daily Writing Practice ***
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Wicked Wind
We watched it come with fascination. A waterfall of fluff to heavy to be supported by the sky poured over the ledge of wind and air. The current of clouds rushed at us while God's promise, the one void of all color except a sickly green, filled the earth and sky. Still, we stood, watching the wicked wind unleashed. The twisting and turning too surreal to be of danger. And so we were when it arrived, the winds picking each of us up in turn, tossing us like salad, effortlessly, through the air.
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