ANGEL THUNDER
Angel Thunder roared through layers of thick cloud cover all the way down to Earth. It rode on a golden beam and broke into a million pieces on the river’s surface. It blanketed the water with its fire. Earlier that day, before dawn, it spoke to me in an altogether different voice. One that was very soft and intimate. It came to me in dreams three times. Once to love me, once to inspire me and lastly to tell me its name. I woke up happy and expecting great things.
It was a good and strange day. My energy was violent and I had trouble talking to people on their level. I could only look down at them from a great distance. It almost felt like I had to shout. I did shout. I managed to accomplish things that I’d been wanting to do for a long time. It was easy. I acted simply and directly. I didn’t question my actions. It was a bit frightening. I was beside myself. I had a vision at noon. I saw a dead giant’s head, sword and sandals by the river where its bones were buried. Three rows of good men and women stood guard by its grave and spoke among themselves in hushed tones, remembering gone-by days, when giants walked the Earth. I removed my hat in silence to pay my respects and felt compelled to meditate on what I’d seen. I decided to live out a perfect day in honor of Angel Thunder Seventy Four.