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Even though the mornings of that particular year were never that misty, this one in particular brought unusual tidings for young Norman. Thirty five. Living with his father. Depressed. Running on nothing but prayers. This man hasn't had any real hope in a while. Before that time, he was tortured with nothing but misery and misfortune. But this morning, out of the blue, when he decided he was going to give up everything, heaven spared him from doom.
Taking his dog outside in the backyard to urinate, there was a strange white light in the clouds at sunrise. It was a faint glow. Unlike anything he ever saw. Accompanied with this were trumpet sounds. A strange series of rumblings from far yonder. He couldn't discern if it was divine retribution or a hostile supernatural takeover. If both, he couldn't determine which one would come first.
But in those clouds, amidst the quiet standard calm of the prison society city of suburbia, housed by the most mundane soulless liberals you could run into, hum drum, no morals, no ethics, just materialism and prideful clinging to their power status in the global cabal, knowing their role, was an omen. An omen to be reckoned with.
The Sun peered through the clouds and shined down on Norman.
It was a message without sound nor any words.
Just Sun rays.
Then the sun went back inside the clouds.
There was something peculiar about the Sun. It moved inside the clouds, with clouds moving behind it and in front of it. Last time Norman checked, or any sane person checked, that wasn't normal. The Sun isn't supposed to function like that.
The Sun had some character this morning, though. It was finally revealing what kind of person it has been this whole time. The Sun wasn't something to be taken for granted. Rather, it was a force. It was an overseer. Finally stepping in.
When the Sun went back in the clouds, the roaring sounds stopped. Only left were the piercing vibrations and dimensional echoes radiating through the airwaves that would make this town their home. Of something which people would eventually surrender towards with nothing but heartfelt bows.
Norman wasn't the bowing type.
Neither were the local residents.
You see, the town treated Norman like shit.
Not the shit that his dog took every morning; that kind of shit actually has decency.
No, no, the kind of shit they treated Norman as was merely a reflection of their own demonic natures, projecting onto a doormat known as Norman.
Years of this. Norman being tortured just for existing.
But natural law, and perhaps divine law, was about to intervene and have a good laugh on the town.unknown to all of them.even Norman.
It would be the reckoning that most people wouldn't even dare to inflict on their worst enemy. Because even the worst villains of the world have some limit to their evil. That's what makes them human to spite their monstrous alien nature.
But this infliction would be beyond anybody's comprehension.
It would be like a never ending orgasmic laughter that would permeate through their guilt.
It would be an eternal sentencing.
And Norman, of all people, would be spared from such a chastisement, and favored.
From then on, the whole town would be forever scared of clouds.
So scared, they would learn to bow every time they saw one in the trees.
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