The Thunder

My name is Shyam. I'm just a simple shop owner in the rural village of Rurari, north of Jijola City. My days are humble, but my life feels perfect.

I have a beautiful and cheerful wife, Raitha, who always supports me. Her laughter fills every corner of our small home, and her love keeps me moving forward. She's eight months pregnant, and in just a few weeks, we'll welcome a child into this world—a dream come true for us both.

It was an ordinary day, though the rainy season had overstayed its welcome. The skies were heavy with dark clouds as I stood behind the counter of my shop, arranging goods and greeting customers with a smile.

"Hey, Shyam! Come here, please," called a familiar voice.

It was the old man I fondly called grandfather. He was a dear friend of my late grandfather and had been there for me through thick and thin. When I struggled to set up my shop, it was he who lent me a helping hand, guiding me like a true family member.

I owed him everything.

"It's raining again," I said, glancing out the window at the sheets of water pouring down. "Isn't the rainy season supposed to have ended by now? Maybe this is the last rain."

After helping him with a few errands, I bid him farewell. "Take care, grandfather. I'm heading home."

After a long, tiring day at work, I finally returned home. Raitha greeted me with her radiant smile, her growing belly a constant reminder of the joy that awaited us. She had prepared a simple yet delicious dinner, and we ate together, laughing and sharing stories as the rain drummed softly against the roof.

Later that night, we lay in bed, warm and content.

"Good night," she whispered, her hand resting gently on her belly.

"Good night," I replied, closing my eyes to the sound of her steady breathing

It was midnight when I awoke to the deafening roar of thunder.

"Gosh, that thunder was so—"

I never finished my sentence.

The storm that night was no ordinary one. Lightning struck with an intensity that split the skies and our fragile home.

By dawn, the rain had ceased, and the village was eerily quiet. Neighbors came to check on us, only to find rubble where our home once stood. Among the ruins, they found no survivors.

A husband, a wife, and the promise of a child—all gone in an instant.

And so, with a single clap of thunder, a future full of love and happiness was wiped away, leaving only silence in its wake.

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The Thunder

Writer: Noobsuper2648