Falling Under || Sloan & Benny
Clouds swirled in the sky above the abandoned church. To Benjamin Butcher who stood at the impressive building’s front with his neck craned back to look up at the church’s spire it was like the spike was trying to stab at the sky and the heavens responded in turmoil. Grey, white and black all fought pushing at each other like waves on conflicting currents.
The church gave Benny the creeps and brought back memories he probably should try to forget. He had just been walking by to clear his head, but something had anchored him to the ground on the street in front of the building and he couldn’t seem to leave just yet.
Flashing images of complex sermons, sunday school, varnishing the pews and scrubbing the floors, falling to his knees at the alter, and exorcisms all cluttered Benny’s addled mind. He squinted at the flashing sky, his shaking hands pushed into his jean pockets to try and still them. It was like the clouds above demanded to be looked up at in terrible awe, but then were angry when you complied.
A single drop of rain splashed against Benny’s cheek. Then heaven’s wrath opened and the downpour hit.
Within seconds Benny’s normally blonde hair was darken with the water it held and his clothes were sodden like a bucket had been upturned on him.
Instinctively Benny ran for the nearest cover and that, unfortunately, was the formidable church. He didn’t think when really he should have
