Apocalypse

The dark clouds were crowding the skies in a hustle. The feathery gray ornate patches appeared like gargoyles lurking in the open as if leaping to gulp everything within its reach. And then the wind howled like thousand wolves bellowing in agony. The trees swayed in haste in a futile attempt to escape the wrath. Nature transformed into a horrific caper, standing on the ledge, on the brim to explode. Was it the final apocalypse, the start of the end. All such questions will be deciphered in a trice, only if one would survive to witness

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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