Crash.
Pause.
Flash.
The sound of thunder floods the room
Echoing around inside of my skull
I stare out the window to see a sudden burst of light
It seems like there is no sound
Except for thunder
And the beat of my uneven, shallow breaths
Shadows dance across the wall
Just for a moment
But long enough to make me shiver
And just like that
The light outside is gone
I clutch the glass bottle between my hands
The cold of the material against my skin shocking to me
It starts to force the sound of thunder out of my mind
Everything seems to pause
My fingernails drum against the glass
I look up and out of the window
There is another light
But it is dull this time
Hidden behind a curtain of black clouds
And a sheet of gray rain
I feel a small smile on my face for a reason I’m not completely sure of
The room is dark
There are no lights on
But it still seems like the brightest place I could be
My arm moves and the bottle is suddenly in my line of vision
Framing clouds and rain with clear glass
My hand still clutches the glass object as tight as I can
I can’t drop it
Or all remains of hope the lightning left
Will shatter
Scatter
Won’t even matter
As the shards of glass litter the floor
There’s a crash
Before a flash
And my world seems to smash
Under clouds made of ash.
How is lightning able to be seen
In a world made of darkness?
How is one flash of light
Able to be so dangerous?
I want to see lightning up close
Know exactly what lies behind the coverings of
Rain
And clouds
And light
But I can’t
All I have is a bottle
That can’t even capture the idea and truth
The danger
The flash
The scar
The hope
That lightning manages to leave in the sky
It’s impossible,
I know,
To capture lightning in a bottle,
But I still want to see the truth
That lies behind the mask of light.