to boredom

to boredom

there is thunder and there is lightning. excitement grips his body. trembling with anticipation, he has not heard from her in three days. how thrilled he is at the prospect of never seeing her again.
the hurricane downed on their small village a week ago. small at first, but growing. quickly knocking out windows and busting through doors. the winds howled in agony as the ceiling of the sky was torn off. he hadn't seen her in three days.
on her last visit she left without a smile. he said goodbye without a care. no smoke. no mirrors. no tears. it was the only good good bye he ever experienced. in fact, nothing could be better. he was going to end it. she wasn't right, nothing felt right with her. she was too slow for him. he liked bowling, she would come, and they'd kiss goodnight in the car afterwards.
now he's staring out the window hailing the hurricane while whispering praises to the god he doesn't believe in.