cyclone

Thomas had no concept of time as he went through the Changing.It started much like his first memory of the Box__ark and cold. But this time he had no sensation of anything touching his feet or body. He floated in emptiness, stared into a void of black. He saw nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing. It was as if someone had stolen his five senses, leaving him in a vacuum.Time stretched on. And on. Fear turned into curiosity, which turned into boredom.Finally, after an interminable wait, things began to change.A distant wind picked up, unfelt but heard. Then a swirling mist of whiteness appeared far in the distance__ spinning tornado of smoke that formed into a long funnel, stretching out until he could see neither the top nor the bottom of the white whirlwind. He felt the gales then, sucking into the cyclone so that it blew past him from behind, ripping at his clothes and hair like they were shredded flags caught in a storm.The tower of thick mist began to move toward him__r he was moving toward it, he couldn__ tell__ncreasing its speed at an alarming rate. Where seconds before he__ been able to see the distinct form of the funnel, he now could see only a flat expanse of white.And then it consumed him; he felt his mind taken by the mist, felt memories flood into his thoughts.Everything else turned into pain.

And then I realize: this isn__ dirty water falling from the sky.It is__iterally__lood.I look up, and a droplet of blood splashes directly into my eye. I curse, rubbing my face, trying to get the blood out, but it__ everywhere, it__ like trying to dry off in the middle of the ocean. Shielding my face as best I can, I stare up into the sky.I am in the center of a cyclone.Giant white clouds swirl like a spiraling galaxy above me, the eye a tiny dark speck. The storm rages, throwing out bloody rain like punches, the wind so vicious it tears my clothes and cuts my skin.Representative Belles__ mind is swirling with dark thoughts__loody thoughts__nd they have created the biggest storm I have ever seen.I have to stop the cyclone. I have to get him into a peaceful reverie, something that he can hold on to while I root around his brain, looking for answers.I focus all of my concentration on stopping the bloody rain. The drops come slower and slower. I take a deep breath, imagining the clouds breaking up, spinning into fluffy bits of cotton-candy like clouds. I don__ open my eyes until the sounds of beating rain disappear and I can feel the warmth of the Mediterranean sun on my face.

If it's ka it'll come like a wind, and your plans will stand before it no more than a barn before a cyclone