The Coming Storm
Day 3,582, 08:31
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Published in USA 
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by
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by Kobble
The Coming Storm
"Lightning Never Strikes The Same Place Twice, So Take What You Can From The First Strike"
As I sit here seemingly peaceful writing on my laptop and drinking a hot cup of tea, a storm brews. The facade of a short Florida rainstorm that appears and then vanishes like the wind, relishes outside. Although the weather outside wouldn't be perceived as a force to bring distraught to any passerby at this moment, it is a lie. Along the southern part of the Sunshine State encroaches the antonym of Sunshine, Hurricane Irma. With its powerful winds it has already wreaked havoc among some of the Caribbean Islands and plans on accruing more of it.
A Hurricane like this one can be likened to the destruction of homes and lives from any other source, man or nature made. Whether it is war or wind. And like the devastating winds of this hurricane, another hurricane may be brewing in this world. And likewise, it reminds me of another story that likens to this particular topic.
A young man, almost a boy, having just reached his age of maturity, sat along the pier of his tiny fishing village staring out to the vast, blue sea. It reminded him of the days he would sit there as his father and all the other men would venture out amongst the drifting, constantly waving, water to fish for their tiny village. He would watch their small, rickety wooden boats float out until they were tiny specks in the distance all until they would vanish from his sight.
This day, however, was different, for he had reached the age of manhood and he would accompany his father and the other men on his first fishing trip. The day was now bright, sun beating down, and a few scarce clouds littered the skies. The water moved steadily below the small pier, gently pushing and pulling against the wood and the sand. It is what seemed like a perfect day to begin their fishing trip.
He had risen earlier than all the other men, for he was too excited to leave and when they all came out and began loading the boats, he followed suit and then accompanied his father into their own boat. They push themselves off from land and slowly they made their way out to sea. The boy looked back at the tiny pier he once sat on as that now became a tiny speck in the distance and then disappear from sight. All around him the caressing waters surrounded him and the other boats, swaying them as they approached their fishing spots.
For hours they sat with their lines hung out over the boats, waiting patiently and silently for each catch. The boy watched studiously as his father showed him step by step how his village fished. He admired his father, a hard man, but loving at the same time and so he soon caught on to the fishing, learning it quite quickly. His father applauded him for what he saw as a natural born fisher, although the boy only thought his father was only saying it and did not mean it.
Another hour had gone by and they caught what they thought was all they could catch this time around. The father gave the order to all the other boats and they slowly began to turn them around and head back to their village across the shaky sea. Unbeknownst to most of the fishers, the waters had become a little more violent as each hour had passed and now in the distance they could spot a terrifying scene unfold before them. Dark clouds brewed behind them, the blur of heavy rain underneath them and the occasional flash of lightning could now be seen.
Fear began to lace the eyes of each of the fishermen. The boy looked up to his father, but he did not show the same fear as all the others did. He only stared forward, a stalwart expression upon his face, as he struggled along with all the other fishermen to move their boats as fast as they could. The waters began to raise them high upon the waves and then crashing down as the storm approached, waves toppling by them. The boy looked again to his father and the over to some of the other boats. He stared on in horror as he saw a large wave collapse down upon two of the other boats. No men could be seen as the wave cleared over them, only small wooden pieces left over from the boats.
The father shouted to his son and he immediately turned his attention back forward, away from the storm, helping the other fishermen in his boat to move as fast as they could. By now the rain had now come upon them, pouring down relentlessly as they became soaked. The powerful winds rocked the boat back and forth, almost tipping it over. Everything was dark, the sky, the waters all around him aside from the occasional flash of light. Unfortunately, as his attention was still forward as his father commanded, he only felt the powerful force and pressure behind him as another wave came crashing down upon his very boat.
For a few moments he remembers nothing but blackness. He comes to after those seconds and all that surrounds him is the thrashing water. Keeping his mouth shut and his breath held, he violently searches for the surface. Blackness begins to slowly overcome him once more as the world fades away. Suddenly, he feels an arm around him and a quick jolt as he is brought to the surface. He breathes heavily as he feels the air again and the storm still thundering around him, slower but still going strong.
He looks over to see the face of his father, holding him, swimming with his one free hand. The father finds what he is looking for, a small piece of wood left over from the boats and with his last bit of strength lifts the boy atop it. Once more the boy begins to fade, everything becoming black once more as he lies there, clinging to the wooden board.
Several hours later, he awakens again, coughing, spitting out what little water he had left in his lungs. He picks up his head and looks around. In the distance he spots his tiny fishing village and smiles. He begins to shout to his father, letting him know of the good news, but when he looks to where he had last seen his father holding on to the wooden board, he sees nothing. Spinning his head around in all directions, he searches around. The waters are now still, just as they were when they had left. The sun beating down once again and the clouds now parted.
He jumps from the wooden board swims around shouting for his father. Diving down he looks for him, fearful of what he may find, if anything at all. He resurfaces and clings back on the board. Looking at his drenched body, he jumped from the board again and swam to shore.
The villagers came out to see the boy, shocked to find him. A day had gone by and only a few of the men had returned and they were sure anyone else was swept away or had died. He asked among them of his father and they replied that they had not seen him. His eyes began to swell and tears rolled down his cheeks. He ran over to that same tiny , wooden pier and sat down as he once did as a youth.
Hours went by and the sky began to turn to twilight as he sat there, hoping to see his father return on his boat just like he did when he was younger. He knew he wasn't coming back, but he couldn't help it.
One of the girls from the village, who had also lost her father, came out of her home having spent the day crying. Wiping her eyes, she noticed the boy sitting on the pier, sniffed, and then made her way over. She stood behind him for a few moments, not sure of what to do before he turned around to see her, a grimace upon his face. They looked at each other with red eyes for a few minutes before the girl sat down next the boy. She nestled herself under his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her as the sun gradually fell below the horizon.
"Always Look For The Silver Lining. Because Even In The Worst Of Times, It's Out There Staring At You, Waiting For You To Stare Right Back At It."
Take the story as you wish. There could be the coming of a storm in many different ways, by Hurricane or not. There are always more than one lesson in a story and many different scenarios it could be used in.
And now still sitting here, finishing writing this story, the rains and winds have grown stronger outside now. My cup of tea is empty and I am bound to lose power soon. But I will keep my hopes up and I am sure all will be well by the end.
If there are any other Floridians out there I wish you safety my blessings go out to you, especially those on the west coast.
And Remember Kids:
"Lightning Never Strikes The Same Place Twice, So Take What You Can From The First Strike"
As I sit here seemingly peaceful writing on my laptop and drinking a hot cup of tea, a storm brews. The facade of a short Florida rainstorm that appears and then vanishes like the wind, relishes outside. Although the weather outside wouldn't be perceived as a force to bring distraught to any passerby at this moment, it is a lie. Along the southern part of the Sunshine State encroaches the antonym of Sunshine, Hurricane Irma. With its powerful winds it has already wreaked havoc among some of the Caribbean Islands and plans on accruing more of it.
A Hurricane like this one can be likened to the destruction of homes and lives from any other source, man or nature made. Whether it is war or wind. And like the devastating winds of this hurricane, another hurricane may be brewing in this world. And likewise, it reminds me of another story that likens to this particular topic.
A young man, almost a boy, having just reached his age of maturity, sat along the pier of his tiny fishing village staring out to the vast, blue sea. It reminded him of the days he would sit there as his father and all the other men would venture out amongst the drifting, constantly waving, water to fish for their tiny village. He would watch their small, rickety wooden boats float out until they were tiny specks in the distance all until they would vanish from his sight.
This day, however, was different, for he had reached the age of manhood and he would accompany his father and the other men on his first fishing trip. The day was now bright, sun beating down, and a few scarce clouds littered the skies. The water moved steadily below the small pier, gently pushing and pulling against the wood and the sand. It is what seemed like a perfect day to begin their fishing trip.
He had risen earlier than all the other men, for he was too excited to leave and when they all came out and began loading the boats, he followed suit and then accompanied his father into their own boat. They push themselves off from land and slowly they made their way out to sea. The boy looked back at the tiny pier he once sat on as that now became a tiny speck in the distance and then disappear from sight. All around him the caressing waters surrounded him and the other boats, swaying them as they approached their fishing spots.
For hours they sat with their lines hung out over the boats, waiting patiently and silently for each catch. The boy watched studiously as his father showed him step by step how his village fished. He admired his father, a hard man, but loving at the same time and so he soon caught on to the fishing, learning it quite quickly. His father applauded him for what he saw as a natural born fisher, although the boy only thought his father was only saying it and did not mean it.
Another hour had gone by and they caught what they thought was all they could catch this time around. The father gave the order to all the other boats and they slowly began to turn them around and head back to their village across the shaky sea. Unbeknownst to most of the fishers, the waters had become a little more violent as each hour had passed and now in the distance they could spot a terrifying scene unfold before them. Dark clouds brewed behind them, the blur of heavy rain underneath them and the occasional flash of lightning could now be seen.
Fear began to lace the eyes of each of the fishermen. The boy looked up to his father, but he did not show the same fear as all the others did. He only stared forward, a stalwart expression upon his face, as he struggled along with all the other fishermen to move their boats as fast as they could. The waters began to raise them high upon the waves and then crashing down as the storm approached, waves toppling by them. The boy looked again to his father and the over to some of the other boats. He stared on in horror as he saw a large wave collapse down upon two of the other boats. No men could be seen as the wave cleared over them, only small wooden pieces left over from the boats.
The father shouted to his son and he immediately turned his attention back forward, away from the storm, helping the other fishermen in his boat to move as fast as they could. By now the rain had now come upon them, pouring down relentlessly as they became soaked. The powerful winds rocked the boat back and forth, almost tipping it over. Everything was dark, the sky, the waters all around him aside from the occasional flash of light. Unfortunately, as his attention was still forward as his father commanded, he only felt the powerful force and pressure behind him as another wave came crashing down upon his very boat.
For a few moments he remembers nothing but blackness. He comes to after those seconds and all that surrounds him is the thrashing water. Keeping his mouth shut and his breath held, he violently searches for the surface. Blackness begins to slowly overcome him once more as the world fades away. Suddenly, he feels an arm around him and a quick jolt as he is brought to the surface. He breathes heavily as he feels the air again and the storm still thundering around him, slower but still going strong.
He looks over to see the face of his father, holding him, swimming with his one free hand. The father finds what he is looking for, a small piece of wood left over from the boats and with his last bit of strength lifts the boy atop it. Once more the boy begins to fade, everything becoming black once more as he lies there, clinging to the wooden board.
Several hours later, he awakens again, coughing, spitting out what little water he had left in his lungs. He picks up his head and looks around. In the distance he spots his tiny fishing village and smiles. He begins to shout to his father, letting him know of the good news, but when he looks to where he had last seen his father holding on to the wooden board, he sees nothing. Spinning his head around in all directions, he searches around. The waters are now still, just as they were when they had left. The sun beating down once again and the clouds now parted.
He jumps from the wooden board swims around shouting for his father. Diving down he looks for him, fearful of what he may find, if anything at all. He resurfaces and clings back on the board. Looking at his drenched body, he jumped from the board again and swam to shore.
The villagers came out to see the boy, shocked to find him. A day had gone by and only a few of the men had returned and they were sure anyone else was swept away or had died. He asked among them of his father and they replied that they had not seen him. His eyes began to swell and tears rolled down his cheeks. He ran over to that same tiny , wooden pier and sat down as he once did as a youth.
Hours went by and the sky began to turn to twilight as he sat there, hoping to see his father return on his boat just like he did when he was younger. He knew he wasn't coming back, but he couldn't help it.
One of the girls from the village, who had also lost her father, came out of her home having spent the day crying. Wiping her eyes, she noticed the boy sitting on the pier, sniffed, and then made her way over. She stood behind him for a few moments, not sure of what to do before he turned around to see her, a grimace upon his face. They looked at each other with red eyes for a few minutes before the girl sat down next the boy. She nestled herself under his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her as the sun gradually fell below the horizon.
"Always Look For The Silver Lining. Because Even In The Worst Of Times, It's Out There Staring At You, Waiting For You To Stare Right Back At It."
Take the story as you wish. There could be the coming of a storm in many different ways, by Hurricane or not. There are always more than one lesson in a story and many different scenarios it could be used in.
And now still sitting here, finishing writing this story, the rains and winds have grown stronger outside now. My cup of tea is empty and I am bound to lose power soon. But I will keep my hopes up and I am sure all will be well by the end.
If there are any other Floridians out there I wish you safety my blessings go out to you, especially those on the west coast.
And Remember Kids:
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