Nature's call

The rain seemed unstoppable. Hard pattering on the glass panes would make it difficult for anyone to sleep. Without checking, it was almost guaranteed to flood up to the ankles at the first floor. The cold from the storm crept into the rooms, through the pores of the walls and through the glass of the panes. Each of the household huddled in their woolen blankets and quilts and Gahme, their husky, curled up in her nest of blankets and cushions, sleepily watchful at the glass as lighting sporadically flashed past accompanying its thunderous sister Loud Sound.

Sonya couldn't sleep. The storm excited her too much. Yet being the frail little skinny thing that she was, she was frozen to the bone. Purple highlighted itself on the base of her fingernails, and her brain hammered her for need of really hot soup. She was glad everyone else was asleep amidst the thunderstorm. She was alive in the night, especially a night like this one, and zero human activity was as orgasmic as feeling the vibrations of the thunder and lightning that traveled to the ground. She shivered with renewed pleasure as yet another peal of loud and deep rumble crashed itself into the earth, spreading deep and wide into the soil and pavement and gravel and tarmac.

After much thought, she decided to rebel against her own brain and kicked off the thick heavy blankets. Shivering at the sudden temperature drop, she stifled a sneeze and tiptoed out of her room. Cold fur brushed against her legs and she jumped at the sight of the giant black and white furball that was Gahme. She whined at Sonya, pushing her back to her room with her nose. But nothing would stop her from doing what she wanted to do, and Sonya pushed back and pushed her way out to the main door. Her heart hammered wildly as she used her full body's strength to push the door open.

And she was out.

The wind was so strong it seem to blow her away from where she was standing. Feeling a pull on her pants, she automatically grabbed Gahme, only realizing a second later that she came out of the house, too. The rain was merciless. Pelting down like bullets, they shot at Sonya and Gahme, and hurt it did. Still, Sonya took a step further out from the doorstep and braced the rain.

It was the most amazing touch that made her feel too alive.

Her clothes were soaked but it didn't matter anymore. Thunders roared and lightning flashed away, rain played an erratic musical tune on the pavement and on the roof. It was a musical in which her pet and her were the only audiences. The rain did not seem like bullets now, they kissed her body in welcome. Gahme wouldn't stop barking at the thunder, and Sonya would only accept the plausibility of her actually singing to the beats of nature.

The rain was the melody on different instruments. The thunder was the strange inconsistent bass. The lightning was the dancer that was inviting her as a partner in Nature's performance. Gahme was an accompanying singer. The howling wind was an invisible dancer, egging Sonya to start her own dance with the rhythm that sang to her bones.

The cold no longer mattered. She was on fire, alive with the heat of the beats. She twirled, pirouetted, sang her heart out. Heaven was smiling upon her performance. She was one of them. She was part of nature, and God was her audience. Nature's call was the best date she could ever get. The mix and melody sang in unison, the feeling of hard pavement and soft wet grass at her soles of her feet was refreshing. The world stopped spinning for that half hour. The world was her stage. She was the star.

Many years later, Sonya would still wake up to heavy rainstorms and smile. Her musical dancing dates with Nature never stopped. Nature was calling her again.