Ali decides it’s ready for Gwen to see. He’s waiting for the right kind of sky – thunderclouds in the distance, the promise of lightning with a hint of ozone.
If he’d mastered weather, he’d only need to inject some heat into this damp August. Since he didn’t, he has to settle for a cloudy evening.
When Gwen sees the circle, her face darkens.
‘Recite rule number one,’ her voice rumbles.
‘Do not speak of our magic.’
She points at Ali’s miniature Stonehenge.
‘Actions, Alistair, speak louder than words.’
It seems Ali has found a way to summon a thunder storm.
I wrote this a couple of months ago for the Luminous Creatures Summer of Super Short Stories, where it came third. I will get round to writing a sonnet (the tenth and final Writing 201 assignment) over the weekend, I hope – you see, I’ve moved again. If you’re a long-time reader, you may be thinking, ‘my, she moves a lot’. If you are, spot on. It looks like this might be the last move for the next twelve months, though.
I tell you all this because I’m behind on replying to comments. It may take a while, but I’ll get round to it.