That's All I Have to Say for Now: A Book of Snippets [Random Updates]

34. Phoenix

I lie on my back, arms and legs limp, staring up at the crumbling ceiling. The wind howls through the walls, the jagged planks of wood eroded by change and insecurity.

I see the dark clouds in the sky overhead.

Lightning pierces the darkness. An angry flash of brightness sets the nearby tree ablaze. It crackles with burning life. The heat reaches me, envelops me.

The clouds drop a torrent of rain. A steaming hiss fills the air as cold freshness touches my skin.

The water soon washes away the ashes, and I stand anew.