The smell. The sound. The feel. Moisture laden air against skin. Static electric atmosphere.
Gazing out a partially open train window. Eyes open to a flash of lightning. Skin raising in goose-bumps. Sensuality. Anticipation of what’s to come.
'Are you cold?'
A friendly voice, breaking from pre-existent conversation.
Thunder sounds loudly. Heavy rain. Wild winds. Reach out and open the window. Seconds earlier it was pushed closed.
Eyes closed. Absorbing the moment with heightened senses. Sensuous sounds fill the soul. Shiver. Hands growing clammy. Face growing warm.
'Do you feel ok?'
Friendly comment. Broken from gossiping voices. Distant voices. A hand brushes against open palm. Eyes open.
Rain eases. Taunting. Teasing. Gazing in a daze of longing. As clouds retreat.
Moments pass. Winds gain strength. Lightning rods shine through the sky. Thunder bellows.
Skin tingles. Alive with sensual energy.
Drawn back to reality. Friends crowding around.
Step off the train. Cheeks rosy.
Rainbow glimmers through parting clouds.
You can't possibly tell me I'm the only one who can see the erotic nature of storms.