The creatures and the dark

The rain cruelly lashed the rolling hills of Martinez, Northern California, swift and grey, rivulets of muddy water draining down between the trees, carrying dead leaves down to the gullies where bullfrogs croaked, cries lost amid the dull maelstrom of the black night, the wind dementedly whipping the leaves. Flashes of jagged lightning illuminated the windswept landscape fleetingly, the shallow lakes lined with lilies, like doomed ships riding the squall, while below the surface the tadpoles watched their sky rise and fall in the tumult, huddled together solemn as judges, their tiny throats pregnant with fearful croaks, trapped in bubbles escaping to the surface to be lost in the teeming, howling wind.

Gophers snuggled together in hollows as the thunder followed the light, the pups cradled in the warm, writhing crush of the pack, burrowing deeper between their cousins and sisters as the heaven’s fury blistered the night, the light from the sky penetrating the burrows to find the old blind mole, dull eyes, dark as coal, huddling in fear, a subterranean gargoyle, dreading the coils of the ground snake which shakes and trembles not ten paces to the left, wrapped around the body of the mouse, swift and deft, rigid with rigor mortis, the taste of death.

The thunder rolls like church bells, filling the narrow valleys with its dull boom as the rain rattles like the god’s own loom at work, weaving our world with threads of rain, no rhyme or reason, knitting the angry sky to the soggy brown earth as the creatures cower and tremble, huddling below ground as the tremulous thunder sounds, waiting til the safety of the morning comes around.

Meet Iranian Singles

Iranian Singles

Recipient Of The Serena Shim Award

Serena Shim Award
Meet your Persian Love Today!
Meet your Persian Love Today!