The sky outside the man’s window was set to a horrible hue of blue and the clouds wafting by were like bulbous whales. To his chagrin, the day seemed to have every intention of being clear and sunny. But he could change it.
He had to.
From the roof of his row home, the sounds of the city were assaulting him from every direction, but he could shut them out. Cross-legged, disheveled, but calm-faced, he closed his eyes and listened to the wind pass by his ears. It spoke of mossy bricks and ffar off trees whose leaves were crinkling brown in the frigid air. With a twist of his mind, the story changed. The wind shifted.
The clouds overhead began to gray, then darken, concealing the setting sun as they congealed into thick clumps. Mist rose from the woods and parks and a hush seemed to fall over the city. It was the quiet before the storm.
At the corner of the man’s mouth, a thin smile began to form. Tonight was the night. Tonight he would change the city for good.