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Distant thunder muttered briefly in the still,
foetid
air. I sensed, rather than heard, the low
frequency
sound.
Slowly, with increasing menace, the sounds of
tempest and violence drew nearer. I resolved to
hurry up and seek shelter.
Alas! All too soon, the storm was upon me!
Thunder
crashed! Lightning flashed! In fear for
my
life I dived low, still naked from the waist down.
Beneath the cubicle wall I could see the crazy
halfbaker in the stall next door, tending a massive
sound system and a van de Graaf generator, from
which monstrous purple sparks were arcing to
every tap and metal fitting in the public toilet
block.
Gradually, the "storm" eased and the sound of
thunder again became muted and distant.
[link]
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Shit happens when you're half naked, [bella]. |
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That's why I posted it under Public:Terrorism, [bella] |
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