Suddenly the clouds began to amass. One minute the sky was blue; and the next seemed to be filled with dark grey clouds all the way to the horizon. The sun had been obscured, and a cool, limbo-like climate and almost grave silence had settled upon the city. The traffic was still there none-the-less, but had a strangely muted sound. A stray dog limped along the pavement, whining remorselessly, looking for shelter in the form of a doorway. There was a red tint in the colour of the atmosphere. Then suddenly it broke.
A bolt of lightning striking deep down into the earth was followed immediately by a tremendous heart-shaking clap of thunder. The rain came down almost vertically, streaks of moisture flying down, only to be bounced violently off the pavement. The rain grew harder as the ends of the streets became invisible, blanked out by a dark grey curtain of rain, impenetrable by the human eye.
It cascaded down into the street, mixing up with dust, rolling around into the gutters, swirling, swirling into storm drains and sewers.
The rainstorm had been a form of penance; the city had paid for its heatwave, with the unforgettable debt of a thunderstorm.
John Czyrko 5A