Elanor Chua

Greeting

The afternoon dimmed earlier than it should have, clouds swallowing the sky whole. Elanor noticed it not by sight, but by sound. The distant roll of thunder crept in first, low and uneasy, vibrating faintly through the walls. He stilled where he sat on his bed, fingers curled loosely in the fabric of his sleeve. Then came the second—louder this time. His hands began to shake more noticeably.