Stormy

 

She was the terror of the playground.  Without warning she would sweep across, knocking over bullies, scaring adults, and never giving in to barometric pressure of any kind.

 

Stormy was an Ill wind that blew no good.  She was often cold, never bothering to look back at the damage she had caused.  Her thunder was mighty, with a temper that was lightning quick.  Sometimes dark and brooding, she'd just hang around, waiting and watching.  Often striking without provocation. 

 

She was an only child, spoiled at an early age, and as most predicted, turned into a little whirlwind, throwing tantrums and trailer parks around like they were nothing.   And never be fooled by her tears.  Whenever she turned on the waterworks, havoc ran through the streets.  No one was safe.

 

Everyone knew her, some feared her, but all were glad when she left.  Her name would linger in conversations, and the memory of her seemed to last forever.  Like I said, she was a spoiled little brat that no one ever liked, but once she was gone, it was as if the sun came out of hiding and wanted us to think it had been there all along.