...and the sky burst forth with pools of wonderous, glorious color...by
ThatChickOverThereComment by K3Master: He had just finished an afternoon of fishing that day, and was slowly rowing his catch back to shore. The sun had started to go down, and the play of colors in the clouds and on the water, combined with the pleasant day and the three or four beer he'd consumed, had calmed his spirit considerably. Yes, he thought, as he finally approached his pier, there was nothing that could ruin this day.
Smiling, he suddenly noticed a strange movement in the clouds. They seemed to be flowing and twisting, forming into one spot above the lake. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Great, he thought, some kind of weird storm just has to come up and spoil my perfect day. How typical.
As he sat and watched the strange formations, it suddenly occurred to him that this was not like any kind of storm he'd ever seen. For one thing, the clouds remained light and wispy. They retained the color of the sunset and didn't go dark like heavier storm clouds should. Then, before his eyes, they began to form patterns and shapes, of a nature that should not be possible. Lower and lower they stretched, and his jaw dropped open in utter astonishment. They were forming into... into
figures. Human like, but definitely not human. Now a bit of panic began to creep into him, and his amazed paralysis, which he hadn't even been aware had struck him, fell off instantly. He suddenly grabbed the oars and rowed madly for the dock, his eyes never leaving the figured shapes that were now breaking off the massive cloud and...
... my god, they were coming right for him, and fast.
With a strangled cry he redoubled his efforts. Rowing like a man possessed, watching as they came closer, and closer. Panic was running through him like wildfire, and a thin screeching reached his ears. It took a moment, but he realized that the sound was coming from himself, a scream building in his throat. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that these cloud figures, these misty abominations were not friendly, and they meant death.
With a thundering jolt that threw him back, the boat hit the pier and the scream finally broke and he scrambled madly for the shore, almost knowing that it was pointless, but instinct kicking in. For a moment he thought he had made it, he thought he'd escaped. He cleared the pier and darted past the tiny beachfront, coming closer to the small wooded area that surrounded his cabin. A few more feet, only a few more feet. A guttural yell of triumph as he reached the first stand of trees and...
Some of the residents called it the most freakish storm of memory, that strange weather pattern that had developed that day. It was no wonder that they'd lost one of the cabin dwellers to it on the lake. He'd gone out fishing they said, and though his boat had been blown back in, he had never returned. Some say that he probably had one too many beer and had fallen in.
A breeze blew through the trees and the missing man's cabin door blew shut with a bang. It was not the water where he rested now.
Photographer found comment helpful.