Nordstrom (North Storm)

This is a vignette piece that we wrote that describes a memory from our past. The short story also shows a little part of our history. I also consider this a portion of a memoir. More importantly, the things in our past make us who we are today. 




Nordstrom
(North Storm) 

The yellow and orange parking lot lights are the only thing illuminating the wet cement, while the rain pounds down on my dad and I that I can barely see in front of me. The sky, pitch black. The moon is hiding behind clouds that are relentlessly releasing their pent up energy on the earth below.

            Suddenly the rain stops, and I can only feel a faint drizzle on the tops of my open palms that face the sky with relief. Late night Nordstrom shopping had turned into an eventful evening when the first bolt of lightning exploded in the distance, snapping my head towards the direction it came from. Thunder rippled towards us from the ever so close lightning and roared past us. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I can no longer peel my eyes away from the direction the lightning shot from.

            The parking lot is almost empty below us now, and the stairs are still soaked with puddles and damn leaves are strewn about. The storm is worth the wait, and my young and untried eyes glued themselves to the black sky that showed nothing but a dark grey veil over the sparkling city lights. A few more flashes, and the cement beneath my feet vibrates with the growl of the thunder that rushes by everything in its way. Finally, it was getting late and my eyes had been seasoned to the power of nature. I knew I would never forget my first thunderstorm and it became an obsession of mine that I pondered over on the car ride home. The windows were being pelted by the falling rain, but I was still searching the skies for one more flash. One more burst of lightning to satisfy my little mind.