Rain Storm Descriptive Writing

As I looked out of the wet, speckled window pane of my grandparents old house, I noticed the gutters were bursting at the seams with rain water, and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from a nearby table. Suddenly, a flash of lightening lit up the dark, southern sky of Jamestown, Tennessee, and the instant vibration of thunder felt like an earthquake under my feet. I shivered watching the electrical, rain storm take over like a fiery beast this early, fall afternoon, and pulled my last cigarette from a worn Marlboro pack that had seen better days. Goosebumps became a reality as I heard the wind scream through the old paint-peeled windows. Click. Click. Click. The old, worn Zippo lighter my grandfather, whom died two years ago, had given it …show more content…
I made it to the Jeep Wrangler in seconds it seemed like, but, even tho the raincoat kept my upper body dry, my jeans and sneakers felt heavily soaked from the flooding rain. I put my keys in the ignition and revved the engine a little, hearing Bon Jovi “Living On A Prayer” blast from the radio, and I watched the mist rise from the back tail pipe as the Jeep's motor rumbled to warm itself. Patiently waiting to get warm, I flipped the windshield wipers on high speed and checked my back pocket for my wallet. My brown, leather wallet was dire to me because, not only did it have my credit and bank cards in it, it contained my favorite picture of my grandfather and me. Suddenly, my heart dropped into my stomach, and a feeling of dread took over. My wallet was missing. I have always been good about keeping up with my wallet, until now. I slammed my fist on the steering wheel, turned the keys off in the ignition, and ran back into the …show more content…
It seemed it was getting late in the evening as the sun started to set, and neither me or Dana had eaten dinner. The ride was mostly silent. Depression started sinking in as I turned onto the road we lived on. I dropped Dana off at his house, and he gave me the last three cigarettes out of his Marlboro pack. We said our usual good-byes, and I left for Grandma's house. I pulled the Jeep Wrangler into the carport and left the ignition running. The rain had stopped, and I sit in the driver's seat staring out of the now moisture filmed window. I felt I had forever lost a prized possession that I owned. I pulled the driver's seat position lever, moving the seat back as far as possible. I put my forehead on the steering wheel, and closed my eyes. My ears picked up a song playing on the radio. The song “Free Falling” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played on the radio, and it slowyly soaked into my conscious. I opened my eyes almost in a daze, thinking I was a failure. I glanced at the floorboard of the Jeep and noticed something brown underneath. Could it be? I forcefully opened the Jeep's driver's side door and jumped out with excitement. Reaching underneath the seat, I felt something soft and leather-like. Bliss was taking over my mind as I pulled the object from its resting place. And, there it was, my