Lightning, A Bad Omen
“Ollie,” Harry called from the front door, stepping over a powdery, white substance poured in a straight line close to the mat. “Why is there salt on my welcome mat?”
Tall, looking disheveled, Oliver appeared beside him and stared at the salt like he was seeing it for the first time too. When he moved into his cousin Harry's flat in Seattle, he came prepared for he knew the city took rainstorms personally.
He cleared his throat. “For protection, of course.”
“From what?” Harry almost shrieked. He knew Oliver had grown up in a village where superstitions were taken seriously and the old women swore that lightning was a warning from the sky. But he didn't realise those superstitions had become a part of Oliver now that he was a grown adult of twenty-one.
“Everything, Harry, especially the lightning. Soon it will rain and once the lightning flashes, that's a bad omen.” Oliver explained with a serious expression as though their lives depended on it.
Harry sighed. He was a meteorology student which was either the funniest or the worst possible thing for a cousin to be. Over the following week, he made it his mission to ‘cure’ Oliver of his fear and superstition of lightning. He bought a book titled Thunder Is Not Your Enemy and left it on Oliver's bedside table. He woke up to see the book back on his pillow. Then he wore a T-shirt that read I 🖤 Lightning to breakfast and they ate in silence all through the meal.
“You can't live in this city and be scared of storms,” Harry said. “Seattle is basically a wet city full of coffee lovers.”
“I'm not scared,” Oliver grumbled. “I'm being cautious.”
“You wore your jumper inside out last Tuesday to avoid a bad omen.”
“It worked, didn't it? Nothing bad happened.”
Harry opened his mouth and closed it, speechless and decided that was a battle for another day.
The following week, the forecast announced a proper thunderstorm and Harry was thrilled, bouncing around the flat to his cousin's displeasure. Harry spent the afternoon preparing: curtains drawn, salt replenished outside the front door, a wooden spoon tucked in his pocket for reasons he refused to explain to Harry.
At half past seven, the sky turned deep purplish grey as the first rumble rolled over the rooftops. Oliver dived under the dining table.
“Oi, it's only thunder!” Harry called, pulling the curtains aside. “Come and watch.”
“Close those at once.” Oliver snapped with an angry look from under the table.
Then it happened. A fork of lightning lit the sky and turned the entire street white as the thunder cracked so close that the windows vibrated. Oliver shrieked, crawled out from under the table to close the curtain and ended up getting tangled in it. The whole rail came crashing down on top of them both.
Harry shook in silent laughter when another lightning lit the sky and Oliver yelped again. The lights went off for a second and came back on again.
“That's it!” He shouted. “A bad omen. Something terrible is coming, Harry. Say goodbye to everything you own, call—”
Harry touched his shoulder. "Take a deep breath and calm yourself."
The lights steadied and the kettle clicked in by itself which was only the timer Harry had set. Somewhere downstairs, a neighbour's cat meowed in mild disapproval.
They waited while rain fell, drumming on the glass windows. Another flash lit the sky and Oliver flinched, giving his cousin a side eye but the world stayed exactly as it was.
“Well?” Harry said, still wrapped in the curtain. “Anything terrible happened yet?”
Oliver thought for a moment. “My elbow hurts.”
“That's from the curtain rail.”
“Right. And that was your fault. You should have kept them closed.”
Harry shrugged. Another bolt zigzagged across the horizon and this time, Oliver lifted his head and properly looked at the jagged sliver thread splitting the grey clouds. It was, he had to admit, rather beautiful.
An hour later, the storm passed, nobody had died and everything in the flat was fully intact. Oliver sat on the sofa with a mug of tea, the wooden spoon sitting forgotten on the table.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Perhaps lightning isn't always a bad omen.”
Harry grinned, working on his laptop. “I think I'll frame that for you.”
“Don't you dare. And the salt stays.”
Harry chuckled. “Whatever. The salt can stay.”
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "lightning”.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Image by Felix Mittermeier from Pixabay