The Book ' The Banquet '

The day was dark. I could feel a storm approaching. The gentle sunlight glistening through the clouds, now covered by a heavy mist. Drop. Drop. Drop. The coldness of the water tinged my face. And the earth shook, as a large boom erupted from the sky followed by a light crackle. By now, I was soaked, like that night. I continued walking through the deserted streets when a large flash erupted from the sky. Oh, great lightning, today was getting better and better. A woman and her young child was running towards their car to seek shelter. The walk was a long and dreadful one, I found myself looking at the place I left 15 years ago. The house was still dark and foreboding as ever, the shutters hanging off its hinges and the roof in a state of disrepair.

Soon the moonlight illuminated the scenery. As I was standing on the balcony admiring the scenery something finally went wrong, a huge black cloud covered the moon. I soon heard the thunder. It seemed to be nothing to worry about, so I didn’t acknowledge it. A few hours later the thunder grew louder and I could see the flashes of lightning headed our way. I went inside to inform my parents of the weather, but they didn’t seem to worry about it much until the cloud was almost over the lodge. My family and I left the reception alone while everyone else stayed in cover; they were the smart ones I thought.

McKnight Malmar’s story, “The Storm”, is a suspenseful short story about a woman, later in the story revealed to be named Janet, coming home to an empty house with no sign of her husband, Ben. The story is told in third person limited point of view where the reader follows Janet who has to process her husband being gone, and finding the lifeless body of a woman while alone in her isolated home during a thunderstorm. The story starts with Janet being excited and relieved to come home to her husband, where she imagines a kind, almost platonic Ben to welcome her home by kissing her cheeks and touching her shoulders (Malmar, Pg. 1). Through the progression of the story, Janet uses her time alone to shift her happy thoughts of Ben into doubt and reason. During the storm, Janet is able to see her life with Ben as the abusive relationship it truly is.

There was bright lightening. They looked up, frightened. Above them black furious clouds started to gather. They began to run. Then the thunder roared, and the rain came down in torrents. <<

It had been raining intermittently for the past four days and by late Saturday afternoon, another storm was approaching the rural southern town of Wrongberight. Clemmy Sue Jarvis since birth has lived in the town and had a simple philosophy concerning weather. As long as she was six feet above ground instead of six feet below, she did not care what it was. Today as she lifts her petite frame into her rusty Ford pickup, she is preoccupied with what she hopes to accomplish this evening. Absorbed in though she pulls out of her driveway and heads south on Flat Bottom Road along the edge the Dismal Swamp towards the isolated home of her dearest friend Estelle

Underneath her bare feet she could feel the coarse hail dig into her skin. She pushed through the pain and heard a branch snap behind her. Her hair whipped towards the sound and was met with piercing white eyes in the darkness. The slow, deep, heavy breathing began to chuckle and

Lyndsey runs out of the building into the dark stormy night. She races to the park across the street as the rain cascades down like a 100-foot waterfall. The lighting strikes the ground all over in sync with the loud claps of thunder rearing its ugly voice. With blood pouring down her face, she runs until it hurts to breathe. Her lungs feel like a fire is raging in them. She stops next to a tree and falls to the ground.

Tiny droplets began to fall on the windshield. As we continued to drive through the drizzling rain, my sister tapped on my shoulder and exclaimed, "Look outside, there's lightning!" I quickly turned to the window only to hear a faint boom, I continue to stare out the window, to see a flicker of light. Suddenly the thumps on the car began to grow louder. Jetting through the wet road, shaking against the harsh winds, flashing thunder continuously abrupts the sky. Looking at the weather now, i noticed how the forecast shifted from a light drizzle to a downpour. Rain sliding down the window, window fogging with a covering mist, our vision begins to worsen. The feeling of fear, heart racing and shaking, begins to build up in the car and I could feel the hairs prickling on the back of my

Jonas clutched Gabriel closer to his chest as they rode the sled down the snow covered hill. Snow and rain pounded Jonas' back, while the winds around them threatened to throw them off. The hill seemed to become steeper and the sled picked up speed. As Jonas dared to open his eyes he could see that the lights were becoming brighter, and heard the soft sounds of singing becoming louder. But as the sled got closer, the wind became stronger, and the snow and rain came down harder. Jonas had to use all of his strength to keep the two of them on the sled. He was so close, he could feel the Elsewhere. Jonas' arms ached, but he could not give up now, he had come so far and is he was so close to reaching Elsewhere. But when one incredibly strong gust

Suddenly the sky darkens and you hear the dreaded rumbling of an approaching storm. Rain begins to fall, starting slowly and quickly increasing in intensity.

I watched Emily run through the rain like it was the best thing that ever happened to her. She loved it. I however did not. Coming to get me I guessed as I heard her bound up the stairs. ¨I know you hate the rain hollie but you should come out.” She said. I was nine at the time and afraid of a lot of things. ¨No! I don't like the rain and I never will.” She then proceeded to pull me over her shoulders and carry me outside into the storm. Within a minute my flaming red curly hair was dark maroon wet and straight. ¨How do you know you won't like it if you won't even step of the steps when it does.¨ I cautiously stepped of the stem into the dirt at the bottom of the stone steps and felt the mud squish between my toes. It felt funny but I like it. I smelt the rain and looked around at the wet grass with the water on it. It was alluring. But before I could touch it I felt coldness all around me and looked up to see my sister with a bucket. We played outside for what felt like hours till Father came to get us. Then I loved the rain and every storm no matter what time it was my sister and I would go outside and play in the

It is then at that moment that the sky bursts into tears. I shudder violently; I can almost feel the anguish the heavens are screaming out. I can almost feel the pain. There wasn’t even a warning drizzle; it simply started to pour. My window’s half open, revealing the storm behind my flimsy window screen, and I’m getting pelted by raindrops. I rush to close the sliding window, but not the entire way; I leave a small crack to let in relieving gusts of fresh air and return to my seat, a little wet, but I’ll survive.

Seohyun shrieked at the sudden downpour. It came down in a rush of sheets, instantly soaking everyone and everything. Grabbing her hand, Kyuhyun pulled his girlfriend into a mad sprint for their room. Pelted with water, Seohyun blindly grabbed at the strings of drenched hair flying in her face. The rain quickly obscured anything beyond a meter with its dense layers making them almost miss their own white house. Together the couple ran straight along the path sending puddles of water and mud up in sprays.

These strange and unknowable people are my ghosts, characters in unvisited places and unknowable times. These timeless moments are the fragments of my history, woven for me in that haphazard place between the real and the imaginary, the past and the present. These stories are the legacy of my grandparents. I am a stranger to their worlds, worlds that survive only in their memories. The people who once inhabited their lives becoming ghosts that inhabit mine.

The downpour recounts an idiosyncratic phenomenon from his childhood that lingered a cherished occurrence on the writer’s mind; watching as the rain drenched earth and everything on it, then becoming shadowed by the vehement thunder to follow, impacted the writer tremendously as the result/damage of the aforementioned coerced an aesthetic appreciation towards this phenomenon. This heavy downpour embarked the unforgettable memories of playing outside in the heavy rain as he reminisced on the vast imagery of nature’s elements along with the striking sounds that followed. In this extract, the writer’s application of stylistic devices and emotive languages such as: his amplification of “The Downpour” in his description, energizing personifications,