“A storm destroys your uncle’s shed and kills his six-year-old son. Describe the colour of the sky right before the storm hit”
When I think about when Danny died, I find myself remembering the sky on that day.
We were driving home before the storm hit. My brother was driving, and a Taylor Swift song was playing on the radio. I can’t remember which one exactly. But I do remember the sky. I was staring out the window at it as the clouds seemed at battle with themselves, each churning and enveloping its opponent.
It was the colour that struck me the most, though.
Anticipating the storm to come, the sky had turned a brilliant shade of dark lavender that was accented with hues of cerulean blue and angry grey, creating a devastatingly beautiful effect.
The green grass bordering the road we were driving on was illuminated by the small tendrils of sunlight that had managed to seep through the raging battle above. The dazzling green stood out in contrast against the darkening sky and created a dream-like landscape that I won’t soon forget.
The spell cast by all these colours was broken as the first few drops hit the windshield and we pulled into home, finding our shelter from the storm.