The sound of the wind rose & fell like a the rantings of a mad man. There was no rhythm to it, one moment it was silent the next battering the doors & the windows. Then. Then silence again. But for how long? The pause between each gust seemed like an eternity. Would the mad wind outside batter the house harder the next time, or would it now be passing & reducing in it's ferocity. Would it be starting to tire, & turn on it's heels. Leave us alone, in a once again silent house. After a few minutes we started to think it had. The pause became longer & longer. & then we would hear it in the distance, as if it was building it's energy for one last attack. Would the house stand it, would we stand it. The noises outside were changing from crashes into groaning. Could the house be crying. It has stood all these years, but was this was to be it's final battle.No it was stronger than that & it was still standing in the morning. A little blood trickled from the corner of it's mouth. But it was still standing, triumphant, ready to do battle once more.
The house, guardian of our lives.
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