Soaked grass and mud squished between my bare toes. I looked at the bottoms of my feet over my sholder. Pitch Black.

Early morning sun peaked through the trees and foliage. A soft wind whispered and nipped around. Green and yellow. Brown and blue. White and gray. Black. 

The colors swim and dance as I spin around. the ground shakes as I pund my feet. A stream of freezing rain water pours down over my body. It felt so good.

Leaves and dirt. Grass and grime. All of this was washed over me. I felt dirty.

so I spin some more. shaking and pounding the ground. then my feet left from the ground. But I spin still. My body twirls and twists. I have become what? A cyclond. Whipping through the forest. 

I have become my own storm, on the day after a natural one.

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