Be an angel and leave a comment to let me know what you think of my snippet, then click on over to Nick's and read the other entries. If you haven't already, maybe you could join us with a weather scene of your own.
A jagged streak of lightning split the sky. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, she counted before the boom and the rumble of thunder. The storm was close. A grin split her wind-whipped face. God, she’d missed this.
Another streak followed the first. One one thousand, two one thousand, boom crash roll. Sammy chuckled and opened her arms to the black clouded sky. Her cares fell away as the storm raced toward her. Its first raindrops, big and fat, splattered her face as the wind delivered the storm to her. Soon the sky would let loose in a deluge. She inhaled the bitter sweetness of lightning-induced ozone.
A purple streak of lightning cracked nearby, followed by an immediate boom and several rolls. Sammy ran back in to the hospital, wet and grinning, barely escaping the pelting raindrops. She leaned her forehead on the door to watch the fury of the storm break against the glass.
Feeling someone beside her she glanced over to see Barry Rakestraw. He stood looking at the storm, dressed in eggplant scrubs, his face as brooding as the sky.
She pounced on him. “Thank God you’re here. How’s Mama?”
“Come on, I will tell you both at the same time,” he said and reached for her hand.
Her hands fluttered to her mouth. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. For an instant Barry’s solemn face was lit by a flash of lightning. Then a deafening clap of thunder rattled the door, startling them both. What if Mama was dead?
Her knees wobbled and she almost went in to the shelter of Barry's arms. The thunder rolled, deep and long. Instead she settled for warm fingers around hers, leading her across the hall to her father.
~Olivia J. Herrell