The Great Dreamer

Jackie’s impatience was getting the better of her. She’d set everything up perfectly through hours of tedious work. She’d dragged the lounger from her apartment and scooted it to the center of her patio of her condo facing the open beach. She’d tucked a cooler full of sodas and beer, snacks to the other side, binoculars on the nightstand she’d put to the side.
Her comfy outside home.
She sunk into the chair, let out an exacerbated sigh, and kicked up to better relax.
Popping the top of a can beer, Jackie peered through her binoculars.
There were no buildings to get in her way. Moving to a beach front, definitely the best choice she ever made. This way, she had a front row seat, alone and well to experience things the way she wanted.
Others decided worship, some tried to fight, others decided riot–she’d laugh if someone decided to break through her barricade because it’d mean a shot to the face.
This was Jackie’s method. To deal, to experience and to watch.
A storm rolled through. There was light rain around Jackie, but the majority of rough was miles into the water.
From her position, the entire typhoon and hurricane was visible. Splendors of greens and dark that lit up like festive lights every time a blast of crimson lightning scratched the bleeding grey clouds. The waters churned violently, cyclones occasionally budded to life, picking water and debris from the coast.
The rumble happened next. A deep shaking that didn’t come from the earth. It wasn’t an earthquake. It was similar to a moaning camel. A chanting groan. A muddy bellow that commanded the weather. A guttural and thick roar mixed the bubbling waves.
Jackie watched a ragged tentacle snake through some of the water, towards a nearby complex that luckily wasn’t anywhere near her. Once the humongous wings opened and stretched, the rain turned to blood. It traced the entity, outlined its broken caricature of a human form.
Jackie raised her beer. “About time you answered my Call,” she said. She downed the entire can in an instant, crushed and tossed it over the balcony. “Merry Christmas, Dad. You lazy fuck.”

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