Lightning Without Thunder – Gwil James Thomas
September 4, 2021
Critters leap and gnaw at my heels from the sun dried campsite grass, as something illuminates the night sky, highlighting the night clouds that pass like floating mountains. Distant forks of lightning then scatter down the horizon, as if hurled there by the hand of god. I think of planets being born and swallowed like the first chicken wing bite of a competitive eater and I think of how that has probably happened infinite times throughout space and time. Others gather to watch the storm, as the sky becomes a smothering of deep purples and pinks, as lightning bolts poke out of the clouds like neon blue dolphins catching waves. Meanwhile, I wander towards the forest and the direction of the storm, the sky looking greater than any fireworks display, just as the mushrooms start to kick in.