The wind whipped ferociously at the siding, thumping the pieces against the house as each one strained to hold on. Sirens continued to blare somewhere outside, but from inside the bathtub, we couldn’t hear them.
Huddled together, my sister and I, pale faces, big eyes, cold hands, we listened to the howling wind grow stronger. Windows broke somewhere in the house; things blew around, breaking against the walls or floor. We began to shake.
The loud whistling grew to a roar and the roof opened up. Our eyes shut tight we felt more than heard the house crumbling. Then a pause. I looked up. A bit of pale blue at the top of a swirling vortex surprised me. My hair had stopped whipping around and up. Chaos all around the house, but here, a haven of serenity.
I looked up in awe. Something so powerful, able to destroy, had a calm at its core. The governing force here was peace. Tranquility guided the tornado on its journey, stoicly. There was a lesson here I was not about to forget as the angry wind returned.
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