March 31: Storm

From @bangkokgirlblog:

Another day, another drama.

Or are we just hearing more thanks to social media?

Woe is me, life is fantastic, ATTENTION please….

Even more noticeable is people involving themselves in matters that don’t concern them; making a storm out of a teacup seems to be the sport of 2015.

A sad reflection of times. 

From @ratchaprarop:

It was mid-afternoon, the sky was dark and threatening. The storm was on its way. The stall holders at Victory monument were packing up, hoping to beat the downpour that was imminent. Somchai had to get to home, quickly. The weather was changing and so was he; tomorrow he, would be a she.

From konfuzed:

Perfection is something that people can spend their whole lives striving for yet fail to attain.

Perfection is sinister, it eats away at you, forcing you to keep going, keep changing it, keep toying with it…  never stop just keep at it, its never complete…

Perfection also exists in nature… George Clooney showed me – the perfect storm…

From @2yrsbangkok:

She knew she should back off when she saw the storm gathering.  But she didn’t want to.  Not today.  She wanted to press until it burst forth in a cascade of polluted words and thunderous blows.  She wanted the torrent to wash her clean away until there was nothing left to hurt.

From @sengkang:

“Where is it?” Shouted big sister.

“Don’t know, don’t know. Just disappeared.” The tiny sibling sobbed into her tissue.

“Well, I’m not giving you another. You’re greedy guts. And I’ll tell father when he comes home.”

Later, when washing up, the mystery was solved. Storm in a teacup dunk indeed.

Father was not informed.

From @shayanbkk:

Her eyes were full of fury. It was probably not such a great idea teasing her about her weight...but it was done. Nothing could stop the storm that was about to come. Not even a glass of wine.

From @directrun:

A Russian legend lies in the life of Tolstoy. Storms carved his pathway, storms of enthusiasm for sexual passion, sentimentalism, Christianity and asceticism. A storm of gambling led him to be a soldier, later this would burst into a tornado of pacifism.

Tolstoy’s works triggered an outpouring of accolades from a torrent of accomplished writers.

From @nikkihammett1:

The days were sweltering and dry leaves blew noisily in the scorching breeze. We prayed a storm would break the intense heat and finally it came. A storm enveloped the town in coolness.The air smelled of dirt and meant that hot season was finally ending in a welcome climax of heatwaves and storms. Bliss!

From @Naamtok:

Kids running underfoot “Get out!” too many people in my stifling kitchen, empty offers of help, potatoes par-boiling as I prep the Goose’s trivet. Marie banging on about her date, I haven’t even started the batter mix! Jamie hands me a glass of Valpolicella. Cooking up a festive storm. Beloved chaos. How I love this.

From @geoffgthomas:

The rain beat down on the shabby tin roof with the deafening staccato of River Dance, and the overflow from the broken downpipe sounded just like a horse pissing on a concrete yard. Living in Bangkok I was no stranger to thunder, lightning and torrential rain, but this was a storm of biblical proportions.

From @PennyKinned:

Suddenly, this storm. Out of nowhere, seemingly, great gusts of air bloom and the sky darkens ominously. There must have been warning signs, of course. A distant rumble, perhaps? A drop in temperature, a rise in humidity? 

But I missed the omens, like I always do. And the raindrops come as a shock to me.