about a storm (150)

she shook, yanking the ends of her jacket sleeves over her hands and pressing her lips together until they hurt.

this kind of storm was unusual, one where she could only watch and wait. so far, she hadn’t found a way to make it stop: headphones only muffled so much, and she’d know the appearance of lightning even blindfolded, be able to trace its path as it sparked over the sky.

tension curled up, rising into the sky as she released a breath, and another.

control was the important thing, she’d always been told, and so she strove for it above all else. “control first, and the rest will follow,” her mentor had said at the end of every lesson. she’d been just a kid back then, pretty much.

her anger dropped and with it, the storm faded away. her breathing steadied, and she watched as the sky cleared.


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