Lost and found is my eureka! blog, my rediscovery of my short fiction and poetry submissions published in literary magazines and university literary journals some decades ago. Interspersed, occasionally, with more recent, hitherto unpublished pieces.
Finally, the storm that had roiled and railed throughout night's passage into the dim light of dawn begins to wear out its incendiary, bellowing passion. The half-drowned world below the weeping cauldron of the sky lifts its sodden head in relief.
Dripping ceaselessly from the night's assault, the relentless drumming of the dark sky, as black clouds defied one the other's domination, like the clash of ferocious Titans, the world shook itself and soon the dense cloak of fog slunk away, leaving a shimmering veil of mist to accede to the strengthening sun's imperious command to summarily depart.
Rivers of rainwater, storm water, the blood of that celestial combat, tumbled down mountain slopes, gathering momentum and thundering and tossing, hauling all unsecured in their wake, trees and shrubs and rocks and soil all submitting to the fury and the majesty of Nature's imperious anomalous tantrums.
The tumbling mountain streams, icy, swollen beyond their narrow fluted confines, hurtle through and over, beyond and between time-and-water-scarred, stony-ridged passages, on the remote, impervious mountain slopes. Boulder- strewn and tree-stumped, the excited wide and running, tumbling rivers thrash over all in their riotous passage.
Great steaming, boiling cauldrons of water rushing to the great beyond of the world's vast seas and waterways, stream and steam, carrying in their irresistible grip the unresistant detritus of forested slopes, thundering the atmosphere, flailing all in their path, enjoining Nature's chaos as she wills it, when she does.
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