I love storms. I love how the marshmallow clouds stack one on the other, piling higher and higher and changing colors, blooming lavender at the base and moving up into muddled reds and pinks, then pure cotton ball white. I love the distant rumble that catches my attention and draws my eyes upward until I find that angry, gray-darkened sky on one horizon or another, filling the air with the scent of rain and electricity. 
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