She walked into the night, the wind howling around her. Lightning cracked overhead and thunder rumbled almost instantly, telling her the storm was close. When the sky brightened again, she paused. Looking up at the dark, threatening sky, she felt the electricity and violence of the storm beckoning to her.
Slipping off her shoes, she ran lightly into the woods behind her house. She stopped beside a gnarled old oak tree as the first big drops of rain began to fall. Her soft, cotton summer dress was soon wet and plastered to her. She didn't care. She was one with the forest, with the storm.
She needed this release. Only the intensity of the thunderstorm could match the turmoil in her mind. She had hurt Him, doubted him. He was beyond displeased and had gone to bed without talking to her. Three words - you were wrong - kept echoing in her mind. These words and His disappointment drove her out of the house, out of the emptiness and pain into the storm.
Holding onto their tree, she let the rain soak her and the storm rage overhead. Eventually, she fell to her knees and sobbed until her pain was spent. In the morning he found her, laying cradled in the roots of their old Oak tree - exhausted from her night in the storm. He picked her up gently and carried her home.
