"THUNDER SOUNDS THRICE"
by Rodrigo Girão
It was a hot sunday morning on that distant farm somewhere
at the Bible Belt. While his father was away, praying for a
hate-filled god, he found relief from world's on the touch
of a secret lover. His hands ran through the softness her
long gold-colored fur. They wildly desired each other's
body, and nothing could ever stop them. Or so he thought.
Suddenly the door was opened and a face of hate appeared in
front of the lovers' naked bodies. Dad was back. Their
passionate embrace was painfully interrupted by the impact
of a dirty foot on his face. He fell, nose bleeding and his
brow hitting the ground.
His lady tried to help him, barking and biting with all her
strength and passion, but she was also attacked with a rage
that not many can stand: the wild rage of a zealot.
Then it was his time to try to help her, but he was still
dizzy with the impact on his head. He was knocked down
again and kicked continously on chest, belly, head and
between his legs.
Surrounded by his own blood, we woke up with the sound of a
thunder, and he immediately knew his soul had been
destroyed. A few minutes later the hateful face was at his
door again. Better this way, the face said, than going to
He stood there for hours before regaining forces to do what
he was supposed to. On a clumsy walk he walked to the
firearm room. He could never understand how many can
appreciate the use of those devices of death agains
harmless creatures, while finding pleasure with a dear
friend was a sin. But at last, on that day, the devices of
death would be used against someone who actually deserved
to be hit by the destructive power that they can cause.
The old bastard couldn't say a word before he entered the
bedroom. The thunder sounded again, and with it a piercing
scream of pain. His knee was ruined, and from it blood
gushed and soaked the sheets. He was now helpless. The
revenge could take place. The smell of alcohol filled the
place, and a match sealed his fate.
He walked to the backyard then. Her body, maculated by the
pervert's violence, even so was still beautiful somehow.
With the left arm he embraced her and softly kissed her
muzzle. A tear, sparkling with the distant crimson flames,
rolled down on his face before he decided to join her, and
with the right hand he made the thunder sound once more.