This is a second-person POV story adaptation of a dream I once had. Enjoy!

Picture this: All around you is dry grass and weeds. Fields as far as your eyes can see. There are no trees. No bushes. No roads. Just you. And your family. And your new, huge, house. You just moved all of your possessions into the garage, and now you’re taking a break outside, watching the clouds.

Suddenly, the clouds don’t look so white anymore. No. They’re turning dark, menacing, grey. Then, eventually, black. As far as you can see. No sun. No blue. Just black and green.

“Look!” someone in your family shouts, pointing to the horizon on the far right.

You look.

Someone else gasps.

An angry column of swirling, greyish-blackness is storming your way. Straight to your family. And your new house.

Everyone freezes for a moment.

Then they start yelling. Running into the house, the hallway.

Which is glass.

The hallway is glass.

There is nothing you can do.

Nowhere else to run.

The basement is too far away, cut off from you, and the other places are no sturdier than the hallway.

You pray for protection, and wait.

The tornado comes.

And stops. Right in front of your refuge.

You stare, heart pounding.

“No. Way. No flippin’ way.” you say, watching the tornado dissipate right in front of your eyes.