The clouds shift to coalesce and darken until the release of precipitation in the desert heat. Raindrops tumble from the thick fog to ground in an effort to moisten the dried cracked earth. The drop reaches velocity as the air whips against the fringes depleting it bit by bit, slowing its descent while the radiating desert heat begins its assault. Thinner, ever thinner, the rain drop, affected by the wind and heat begins to mist at the fringes until it’s everything is nothing, but so much humidity mixed into the desert air.

The clouds shit from gray to black. They thicken and hold their weight until again they release another fit of liquid drench that again breaks up before it reaches the earth. The overcast begins to cool and dissipate until the clouds blacken again. An unearthly covering that speaks of holy floodgates and torrents released that will drown the earth in forty days and nights of siege. Day turns to night as the blue sky is finally lost to the black mist of a biblical storm and overhead everything is black.

There is a pause, then a dark spot arrives on the dry earth like a mortar shell scattering dust as the starved ground absorbs it instantly, unwilling to share. Another strike, then another before the sky breathes.

It releases a cold wind and after what has been an eternity of drought and heat the tan cracked earth receives the first caress of true wet moisture. The ground darkens with the wet. The earth breathes and drinks as the rain spills like tears over its face. The rain begins to sizzle against the ground and in a flash the light breaks the dark followed closely by the thunder striking explosion.

The air shudders, sizzling and charged with electricity. Mud thickens as water drenches the soft ooze to release. Then a river of sludge breaks free with the torrent and still the rain comes. It has been years and the earth opens herself to this.

Beneath the sludge something moves. It pushes and grows reacting to the moisture and the flood of tears and rain. The ground splits and something appears. It is mud covered and filthy. It does not scream or cry out it simply pushes. The rain strikes it and the mud washes away. More rain as it rises and one end breaks free to roll out fresh and bright green. Others are pushing out as well, the undead green returning to live again in the moisture of the earth.

When the rain ceases its torment the green continues to rise with the sound of crackle splitting up from the wet earth. They each unfurl and reach out their leafy bits to take in the sky beacon as it breaches the cloud covering. It takes only days for the change to be seen and weeks for it to be complete then there is nothing. Nothing as far as sight can tell.

Nothing, but green earth and blue sky, reaching into the distance from all directions.

The sound of what must be thunder reaches across the sky and a moment later a burning shaft shoots across, reaching down like a comet. It strikes the earth as a javelin thrown from the gods burying itself as an exclamation point and the sound of a concussion.

Dust and earth explode to reveal the long wooden shaft of a shovel with its blade buried in the earth.

Everything calms.

The light beacon warms and nourishes. The wind moves the blades of green like a grand liquid ocean.

The shovel waits.

 

Again.

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