Craaaaaaackboombombombombmbommmmm
An unusual phenomenon happened last night in Huntington Beach, taking many people by surprise, including me. It may happen once or twice a year, but it’s still enough of an oddity to captivate people and keep them talking about it for the next day.
Last night, a small thunderstorm rolled in from the ocean. There were at least four flashes of lightening accompanied by three loud crashes of thunder. And it rained. Hard. For at least 15 minutes! Can you believe that?
Whatever.
I thought I was dreaming. Well, I was, actually. It was around 2 a.m., and I was comfortable in bed. My window was open, as if I ever expected rain. We’d gotten sprinkles on Sunday thanks to the remnants of Hurricane Dean, but any precipitation that falls in the summer is considered freakish. The rainy season is confined to winter — January, February, and March. Other than at you’d never know water fell from the sky. And thunder and lightening? Almost never.
What I remember is dreaming about two stories I wanted to combine. I have no clue why I was dreaming about that — it’s a stupid idea in the first place — but it’s a typical dream for me. As I physically combined the two stories (they were paper bundles I smashed together in the air, like Moses combining the Ten Commandments into one tablet, or something) my eyes sensed a flash and I heard craaaaaaackboombombombombmbommmmm. Half awake, I stirred and thought, “That was a damn good effect for a dream.” I fell back into the story combining for a minute before another flash woke me and I heard thunder.
I couldn’t believe it. Thunder and lightening? No way! I hadn’t heard thunder or seen lightening in a year.
I stood up and looked out the window. I don’t have much of a view — the building across from me and the bedroom window directly opposite — but I could see what was going on. That’s when the sky unzipped and the rain started to pour. It wasn’t torrential rain, but it was a good heavy rain that soaked everything (and by everything I mean the concrete and all the asphalt around the concrete). A bolt of lightening zig-zagged its way into the clouds and the whole neighborhood was lit up. The boom that followed shook my apartment building, and car alarms started sounding. I heard someone across the alley say, “Whoa!”
Last night, a small thunderstorm rolled in from the ocean. There were at least four flashes of lightening accompanied by three loud crashes of thunder. And it rained. Hard. For at least 15 minutes! Can you believe that?
Whatever.
I thought I was dreaming. Well, I was, actually. It was around 2 a.m., and I was comfortable in bed. My window was open, as if I ever expected rain. We’d gotten sprinkles on Sunday thanks to the remnants of Hurricane Dean, but any precipitation that falls in the summer is considered freakish. The rainy season is confined to winter — January, February, and March. Other than at you’d never know water fell from the sky. And thunder and lightening? Almost never.
What I remember is dreaming about two stories I wanted to combine. I have no clue why I was dreaming about that — it’s a stupid idea in the first place — but it’s a typical dream for me. As I physically combined the two stories (they were paper bundles I smashed together in the air, like Moses combining the Ten Commandments into one tablet, or something) my eyes sensed a flash and I heard craaaaaaackboombombombombmbommmmm. Half awake, I stirred and thought, “That was a damn good effect for a dream.” I fell back into the story combining for a minute before another flash woke me and I heard thunder.
I couldn’t believe it. Thunder and lightening? No way! I hadn’t heard thunder or seen lightening in a year.
I stood up and looked out the window. I don’t have much of a view — the building across from me and the bedroom window directly opposite — but I could see what was going on. That’s when the sky unzipped and the rain started to pour. It wasn’t torrential rain, but it was a good heavy rain that soaked everything (and by everything I mean the concrete and all the asphalt around the concrete). A bolt of lightening zig-zagged its way into the clouds and the whole neighborhood was lit up. The boom that followed shook my apartment building, and car alarms started sounding. I heard someone across the alley say, “Whoa!”
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