Shelf Cloud Arrival

A heavy gust rattled the screen door latch. I pushed through onto the porch floorboards. The temperature had dropped ten degrees in five minutes. Out past the driveway fence, a low, smooth shelf cloud rolled across the dark sky, lit from within by silent flashes of violet lightning. I stood at the porch rail and rested my palm against the cool painted wood to steady myself against the wind. Bean burrito. The front has officially reached the perimeter.