Sunday Photo Fiction: Purple Haze


A storm of this magnitude was a rare occurrence when the weather wasn’t boiling hot. The temperatures had been mild at best.

Albert had felt the temperature slowly decrease outside his truck where he ate his favourite chocolate bar. He had become cold enough to throw on his thin jacket. Albert adjusted the rim of the Blue Jays hat, as the first drops of rain fell methodically on his nose. 

Then the storm had arisen with tyranny. The unbiased cruelty of Mother Nature had thrown everything she had into the storm as Albert ducked back into his truck for cover.

Golf-ball sized hail pounded down, denting Albert’s beloved white pickup truck. Then the rain crashed in torrents of harsh unending water from the sky. The wind was blowing, howling it’s rage and rocking Albert’s truck.

Albert turned on the radio to comfort himself. He could hear thunder in the distance rumbling closer.

 The sky was a harsh grey with a small purple glow as lightening sparked across it. One lightening crack was so terrifyingly loud, Albert jumped. 

The destructive path of the lightening with thunderheads, made Albert think he was adrift in purple haze when deep booms were followed by flashes of brilliant purple.

Then, the radio was suddenly, blaringly loud to Albert as the thunder and lightening passed. The rain continued in sheets.

Jimi Hendrix was singing “Purple Haze,” crooning in his legendary voice on the radio:”Yeah, Purple Haze all in my eyes, don’t know if it’s day or night . . .” 

Albert could relate to those lines as he waited through the mid-afternoon in his truck, for the purple haze left in the rainy sky to pass. 

(Although, Albert knew Hendrix sung of a different kind of “Purple Haze. “)

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A Mixed Bag

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Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF
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Jimi Hendrix ” Purple Haze”

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©Mandibelle16.All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers: Goodbye Old San Francisco


Jacklyn loved the old part of San Francisco. She couldn’t think of anything she adored more than spending a morning walking and browsing in various shops.

As Jacklyn devoured Chinese food, the sky began to darken. A rumbling thunder could be be heard in the distance. Jacklyn felt apprehensive.

Fat drops of rain fell and became numerous. The rain fell in torrid sheets, pooling on the streets. Jacklyn and many others were soaked as they ran inside. The the wind arose strongly and it began to hail.  An eerie green light was cast upon the sky and Jacklyn froze as she saw a funnel cloud near.

The wind picked up as Jacklyn and others hid under tables in the Chinese restaurant. The acrid taste of fear was in her mouth. Jacklyn heard a roaring as the Tornado blew through the area; the sound went on forever.

Later, when the Tornado had passed, Jacklyn and the people inside the Chinese Restaurant’s building came outside. To Jacklyn’s shock, it was the only building in old San Francisco standing. She wept.

Word Count: 177 words

Town
The Story Tellers Abode: The Old Part of San Francisco

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting the challenge!

Note: I have never been to San Francisco. I don’t know if they get Tornado’s there. But for the purposes of this story they do.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.