It’s the middle of the night as the darkness prevails, clouds start gathering overhead, and thunder rumbles in the distance, it’s the beginning of chaos, a sign of an upcoming furious storm.
Soon the lightning flashes across the sky, brightening the twisting trees as they sway in the strong wind.
There stands an old house, far off from the chaotic city life, settled on the vast lands of a remote village. Its brick walls and simple architecture speak of a bygone era.
Two central rooms, connected by a small inner passage, provide shelter to its humans. A traditional verandah, supported by marble pillars, graces the front, overlooking a spacious courtyard leading to a cracked wooden gate. A kitchen without shelves and cupboards, and a shed made of broken cement tiles, hold unwanted items of the house.
Inside the house, darkness rules like a heartless tyrant, suffocating and oppressive. Howling winds rattle doors and windows with a deafening sound, while branches snap and fall to the ground, destroying the holy peace of the night. Every terrible flash of lightning casts a fearful shadow on the walls of the house, which makes it more horrifying. While the thunder shakes the weak foundations of the structure.
As the storm intensifies, the sky unleashes a heavy flood, blurring the boundary between sky and earth. The angels of rainwater take everything in their embrace, renewing the land with their blessed showers.
The dance of lightning in the black sky, the hypnotic rhythm of the rain against the windows, the rumbling of thunder – the strange beauty of the chaos of the storm leaves an everlasting impression on the soul.
As the night goes down, the storm finally passes, leaving the world in a new form. Trees are broken, and the ground is turned into mud and debris. But even though things are messed up, it’s a reminder that after the darkest nights, there’s always a new dawn waiting.