Annie Cullinane
She was sitting at the edge of the pier when dark clouds spread over the sky like in in water. Her blue haven with its chirping birds and bright sun was halfway gone when she had noticed, the birds fluttering to their nests, a gaping hole of black over half the sky, swallowing the world. She closed her eyes. The sharp tang of a coming storm stung the air. Her eyes settled on a school of fish darting away to places she couldn’t see, safe places.
She brought herself to her feet, laying her fishing rod on the dampened steps. Her eyes were drawn to the gravel parking lot, finding it empty. The other fishermen must have fled as she had been staring at the last wisps of forest, watching boats sail by with wings of canvas and masts as tall as mountains.
The sky crackled, a stream of light, striking a patch of nearby forest. The noise had filled her ears sent a shock of its own through her skull, making her grip on her tackle box go white-knuckled.
She felt frozen, the sky somehow so many shades of grey and black, shards of blue showing between the clouds, shards of hope being crushed underfoot by the storm. She paused, her shoulders drawn, her muscles taut with stress. She looked back at the forest where the lightning has stricken, her horror and panic plain on her face.
It was on fire.
Her eyes went wide, smoke filling her senses, clouding her head, making everything go grey as the sky. She hacked and coughed, her limbs becoming sluggish. She weakly put her sleeve to her mouth, trying to block out the smoke. The world swam, the smoky air fluid around her.
The smoke almost seemed to curl around her arms, forcing her to her knees, stealing the air from her lungs. The wood of the pier dug into her skin, but the terror of the fire was far greater, snuffing out her insignificant pain. She felt heat push against her, until her very blood mixed with sweat, until her lungs burned in the fire.
The grey sky above mixed with ash, blending, making her above her below, her left turning into her right. She was losing consciousness, the edges of her vision tinged with red.
Sheets of rain thundered down like wingbeats. Falling from the now-gone sky, lifting the river, smothering the fire.