The storm

Henry looked nervously at the tall oak tree in the garden, the storm swirling around its branches pulling it this way and that. He wished he could bring it in, offer up a cup of tea and shelter from the savage weather.

Henry closed the curtains, climbed into bed and listened as the rain lashed at the windows and wind howled through cracks in the doors, begging to be let in.

When he awoke, somewhat cold, the noise of the storm had vanished; instead the sound of the ocean calmly washed over him, and sea salt smells filled his nostrils.

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Submitted forย Friday Fictioneersย photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.

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39 thoughts on “The storm

  1. I agree about the rain on the metal roof. We have to have some really hard rain to hear it on my home, but it is soothing. What a surprise to wake up with the sea all around you.

    1. I think I’d probably stare out of the window for an hour wondering what the heck happened. Then make a coffee. THEN consider stepping out. For another hour.

    1. As much as I don’t envy the USA’s weather at the moment I do love the name “Polar Vortex”. Sounds a bit… intergalactic!

  2. Nicely told, and the picture illustrates it perfectly. We have an old oak right outside our new (to us) house. I’m pretty certain I shall remember your story when I see it in the next storm!

  3. As I browsed through the comments, I saw definite proof that each reader really does see a story from his own perspective. Some saw the ending as a calm and happy resolution to the storm. Others saw it as a total transition of the man into a completely different realm. I’m one of the latter. The idea that he began the night in his own home, looking at the oak tree in his own backyard, but ends that same night on the shore of some distant ocean is exciting indeed.

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