The gods’ breath brushing into my hair, sailing down my spine, cools my flesh. The oncoming of a storm. The serenity. What storms await for me ahead? What demons will I face?

I remember the flash of lightning that sparked before my eyes. Not older than twelve, I cringed behind the couch, searching for security. I wanted to show my strength against nature. I exclaimed, “I’m not afraid of you,” and the bolt struck a nearby tree. The cracking and splintering, a soft fire brewing from the alms.

And now, I just wait for the flood to take me home.