The Iron Roof Storm

1. The Dark Counting

As I sat in the dark, the only sound that filled the air was the deafening crash of iron roofs flying through the night. One after another, they came down, landing in our yard with a resounding thud. Each impact making my heart race and my mind whirl with thoughts of the destruction that must be happening all around me.

I tried to count the number of roofs that fell, but it was impossible to keep track as they seemed to be coming from every direction. I estimated that there were at least thirty or more crashes, each one making the darkness feel heavier and more suffocating.

The chaos outside seemed to mirror the chaos within me as I sat there, paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. The stark realization that our once peaceful neighborhood was now a war zone, with no end in sight, weighed heavily on my shoulders.

With each new crash, I felt a sense of despair creeping in, wondering when it would be our turn to face the destruction that was raining down all around us. The darkness seemed to stretch on endlessly, broken only by the harsh sound of iron meeting earth.

And so, I sat in the dark, counting the iron roofs as they fell, each one a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just outside our door.

Vintage red bicycle leaning against yellow brick wall outside

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