Snapshot of Environmental Experience

The basement is dark and barely used. Old random toys cluttered the cement floor; the only light comes from a small light bulb dangling from the ceiling. It flickers once then goes out. The little girl with us starts to cry. She's crying because of the dark. We try to calm her down, only so that we can hear the howls of the wind outside. We can hear it banging on the windows, trying to get it. We stop talking and just sit there praying. We don't even whisper, we are afraid the funnel will hear us and chose our house. Besides the wind, we can hear the lonely alarm blaring it's warning; tornado. This one seems closer than it's ever been. We can hear what sounds like a train coming for us. The house seems to be shaking, the wind is trying to rip it out of the ground, but it refuses to budge. The harder it shakes, the more scared we become. It is our only protection from the nightmare that's trying to find us. We cannot fight this intruder; we can only hide and hope it doesn't find us here.