It towered over me, a pillar of spinning dust. Churning counter-clockwise, destructive power pulsated. The setting sun illuminated golden highlights in the cylinder. It raged, yet no wind fluttered my hair. Fertile soil drew into its vortex, but I remained solidly planted on the ground.
My feelings conflicted with normal reactions. I was not frightened, but fascinated, instinctively drawn to it like a worker bee to the queen. Minutes passed, but its position held in front of me. For all its fury, the ragged edges appeared soft, billowing. I reached out my hand and pressed my palm to the outer edge of the twisting column.
The contact sizzled, the hair on my arms raised. A jolt shot through me so every limb tingled. It faltered for a split second, then shuddered, ripples traveling upwards from my hand. A seam appeared then stretched open, wide enough for me. I longed for its embrace, and stepped inside. Engulfed by the tornado, it caressed me. I felt complete, euphoric, wanted. In its core, I found my true love.
The above describes my heroine's first encounter with the tornado god. Was it a dream or real? You decide.
Photo courtesy of NOAA from www.flickr.com under license found at creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/legal code and has not been modified. Photo link is: https://www.flickr.com/photos/noaaphotolib/5033798748/in/photolist-8EPwZA-4KeMUu-6e5wwU-4rZ5ki-bBtnX8-97fDhw-8KcZdQ-5ZbN8B-5SyjoC-65coYL-5bhekq-amp5k3-5ZbNbp-4zEGsp-4VoTMN-8kCXag-8ELmFz-6T4BNz-5QKA9R-2grh92-neUNcM-4VduF4-8ku8Zf-8GDNGL-6mmor-97sbYL-4VoTHs-5Fqged-9No1HW-6JPDgc-4BPRbr-jEsQ-71Y2GW-9aXWAD-3zUNZ-9b25AS-6HLkpV-4Ycmeu-48UVM-9aXWEz-5DKF1b-ottHrS-9EQLhL-84322u-nx2PV-cg7Jt-9aXWza-5Sypou-9Li89G-6RpYmL