The electrical essence of the soul


The storm saved him. Another night in isolation. No one among the remnants of his remaining family had called. He checked the phone to see if it was working. The phone was working. It just didn’t ring. He implored it to ring. It did not comply. It sat there like a symbol of abandonment. He was feeling more alone than ever.

And then, perhaps a miracle. Certainly good timing. The night sky flashed through the window and five seconds later the crash of thunder.

The sky had come a-calling.

Who doesn’t like a good thunderstorm? He lay on the bed and listened to the rain pounding on the roof and on the fronds outside the window. Another flash. And three seconds later, a thunder boom. The storm was moving closer.

The godlike lightning bolts and the sound of the thundering sky was a dramatic opera. Nature’s passion drove out his loneliness. He felt closer to his wife. He felt she came nearer to earth, and to him, with the mystical storm. And if he chose to, he could feel her presence. And he chose to.

She wasn’t making a personal visit, he wasn’t crazy, but her spirit was closer to him, the electrical energy of her soul was part of the storm.

Back to the front page