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Tempest's Gift
March 13, 1945
Pierre Lafayette smiled as his three children raced across the white sandy beach, their footprints washed away by the gentle waves. The sunlight reflected off the great expanse of water before him, and he shielded his eyes against the dazzling brightness; next to him, his wife continued her reading from the comfort of a low hanging hammock suspended between two trees.
The beach was relatively uncrowded; tourist season would not begin for another two weeks, although many vendors and businesses were already preparing for them: already, large signs were being raised all across the city, citing the many great luxuries and attractions of New Vegas.
His youngest son was waving, trying to get his attention. Pierre waved back, assuring his son he had his undivided attention. The young boy then turned, following his two siblings into the water. Watching the three for a moment, Pierre eventually retreated into the shade offered by the small grove of trees, laying himself down onto one of the large white towels they had brought, and resumed his reading.
Pierre opened his eyes, and slowly realized he had dozed off; looking at his clock, he saw he had been asleep for nearly an hour and a half; his wife was now toweling off the three children, who were eagerly unpacking snacks and drinks from a small cooler they had brought. Rising to his feet, Pierre helped them make the sandwiches they were so fond of.
A napkin rose from the large picnic blanket they were eating on, and fluttered in the air. Giggling, one of the children raced after it, leaping into the air to grab it. Another napkin flew up, carried by the wind.
Soon, the blanket itself was flittering at the edges, knocking over their plastic cups and plates as the wind continued to increase. Soon, their towels and discarded shirts were in danger of being carried away. When Pierre looked out at the sky, he quickly informed the children they were going; ignoring the inevitable complaining, he hurriedly began packing up their belongings.
Huge black clouds were rolling in. A false night seemed to fall over the beach as the clouds obscured the sun. Swimmers were dashing out of the waters as some families gathered under the large pavilions that stood near the parking lots, hoping that sunny weather would quickly resume.
Without warning, rain began to fall heavily on the city as the howling winds continued. Menacing waves now crashed against the now-empty beach. The sand castles that had once stood proudly on the sands had disappeared, the tempestuous sea leaving no trace of them behind.
The abrupt and unexpected storm continued to increase, as New Vegas prepared for the worst.
March 13, 1945
Pierre Lafayette smiled as his three children raced across the white sandy beach, their footprints washed away by the gentle waves. The sunlight reflected off the great expanse of water before him, and he shielded his eyes against the dazzling brightness; next to him, his wife continued her reading from the comfort of a low hanging hammock suspended between two trees.
The beach was relatively uncrowded; tourist season would not begin for another two weeks, although many vendors and businesses were already preparing for them: already, large signs were being raised all across the city, citing the many great luxuries and attractions of New Vegas.
His youngest son was waving, trying to get his attention. Pierre waved back, assuring his son he had his undivided attention. The young boy then turned, following his two siblings into the water. Watching the three for a moment, Pierre eventually retreated into the shade offered by the small grove of trees, laying himself down onto one of the large white towels they had brought, and resumed his reading.
Pierre opened his eyes, and slowly realized he had dozed off; looking at his clock, he saw he had been asleep for nearly an hour and a half; his wife was now toweling off the three children, who were eagerly unpacking snacks and drinks from a small cooler they had brought. Rising to his feet, Pierre helped them make the sandwiches they were so fond of.
A napkin rose from the large picnic blanket they were eating on, and fluttered in the air. Giggling, one of the children raced after it, leaping into the air to grab it. Another napkin flew up, carried by the wind.
Soon, the blanket itself was flittering at the edges, knocking over their plastic cups and plates as the wind continued to increase. Soon, their towels and discarded shirts were in danger of being carried away. When Pierre looked out at the sky, he quickly informed the children they were going; ignoring the inevitable complaining, he hurriedly began packing up their belongings.
Huge black clouds were rolling in. A false night seemed to fall over the beach as the clouds obscured the sun. Swimmers were dashing out of the waters as some families gathered under the large pavilions that stood near the parking lots, hoping that sunny weather would quickly resume.
Without warning, rain began to fall heavily on the city as the howling winds continued. Menacing waves now crashed against the now-empty beach. The sand castles that had once stood proudly on the sands had disappeared, the tempestuous sea leaving no trace of them behind.
The abrupt and unexpected storm continued to increase, as New Vegas prepared for the worst.
Sorry, NationStates has been consuming much of my time. I will repent, though!
hahahahhahahaha
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