Vacancy

It is now a place of dark dwellings and empty roadways. Gone are the people who gave the town life.The vacancy is all the more noticeable for the lack of tchotchkes that naturally come with habitation. It is as though some insatiable giant traversed the streets during the night gobbling up lawn ornaments, decorative flags, flowerpots, and mailboxes.

Columns of rain now race through the streets, towering gray wraiths driven by banshee winds. Curling streamers of leaves race ahead of the advancing rain, fleeing the destruction promised by the banshee howls that echo between abandoned  homes.

Dry gullies have become racing streams while streams have grown to lakes - lakes whipped into white-capped froth by the same frenzied wind that has turned nurturing rain into an advancing army.

I watch all of this from behind discreetly parted blinds, loath to let the outside forces know of my presence - fearful that such discovery will lead to a focused assault on my home.