Eye of the Storm

This image has been running through my head for years and I finally got it onto page *kinda*

Sitting here in a run down diner off the motorway, a frozen beer and the rain thundering down. I sat in tune to the vibrations of the radio behind the bar. The background so dim as cigarettes give out their last breath in ash trays. My skin creeps from the breeze of the world outside, occasionally a flash would light up scenery. The atmosphere felt like a living grave. Like God had forgot this place and we unfortunate souls had drift in from the storm. I watch as the liquid in my bottle vibrated out of fear from Thors wright. But then I noticed, something I had not excepted. Everything seemed... perfect. In the middle of nowhere, a storm raging outside, and here I am in a diner only lit by dim light. I found myself in what I can only describe as the eye of the storm. 

The End

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