The Demon Lightning

Rolling sheets of lightning crackled through the cloudy night sky, the heat oppressive even hours after the setting of the sun. Argen’s mother had called this demon lightning, and considered it an ill omen, as it came without rain. Steven called it dry lightning, and mused that it might be caused by the heat and the thickness of the air. Sweat beaded on Argen’s brow as he lay in the soft grass and watched the sheets roll. The sharp scent of the lightning mingled with the sweet grass and salty sweat, but it reminded Argen of home, now far behind.