My Thoughts On The Death Of Thunder

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Maintaining my position amidst the rain, I observed as she’d progressed to scarcely being visible, and while mulling over the convoluted conversation that had just taken place, a sense of uneasiness began to swell within me. I understood the explanation that she provided, and that her frustration appeared to be firmly rooted within the confines of her Uncle’s soul and bitterness; however, my intuition guided me to believe that, while the explanation she provided was horrible in itself, there was a gaping void that she neglected to fill. There was, indeed, the likelihood of my intuition being saturated with fallacies, and that perhaps relying solely on intuition could be hazardous. Nevertheless, the feeling that resided within the pit of my stomach felt to be resolute and worrisome. I’d become so consumed with thoughts of uncertainty, regarding Margaret’s antics, and whether I should adhere to my body’s urge to trail her, that I nearly became disconnected from the physical realm; and, if it wasn’t for the indignant roars of thunder, it’s quite possible that I would have remained, there, for hours. Promptly after coming to, however, the entirety of my body began to shiver. Each raindrop felt to be swelling with time, and I immediately wished to act on the situation, but my mind questioned how. I questioned how angry she would be with me, considering how she responded to even the minutest attempts of humor or to accompany her, and questioned whether it would truly be worth the
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