Jonathan peered nervously at the afternoon sky. He didn’t like the look of those dark clouds. Cyclone clouds.
His crop was mere weeks away from harvest. So close. So very close.
The wind picked up and hailstones began to clatter on the ground. Cursing, Jonathan took cover just in time. Chunks of steel rails began falling, then wooden crossties and supports, then cars full of screaming riders. Acres of soybeans, demolished by the Cyclone.
Damn this weather! Last year, a Thunderbolt had laid waste to his sweet corn, and now this.
It was tough being a farmer in Rollercoaster Alley.
[Submitted in response to Weekly Challenge #16 at the 100 Word Stories Podcast, of course.]
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