Jimmy knew something was wrong, although it was a fine spring day. He had heard the others talk about something about storms. He didn’t like them. They also always resulted in the family wasting money on repairing the perfectly fine mansion and not walking him enough. So to get a good view of the potential storm, he sat on the damp, carpeted floor of the only room on the rooftop garden, full of exotic plants of every imaginable kind, with floor-to-ceiling windows on all sides, which also was connected to the lift, facing a freshly repaired window.
Then it started: the waves, like a frenzied and ferocious giant, finally breaking free after millions of years of imprisonment, tore through the coast. They crashed into the shore and onto the mansion, shamelessly smashing and tearing out chunks the size of small asteroids off the marble walls of the mansion. Jimmy watched on. The dark seas churned with infinite rage; imperishable hunger and a gnawing voracity. A frothy, dark grey wave banged on a boat, which, already shaking like a benchy* being tossed around by an enraged child, promptly capsized, screaming in pain while losing a seat, complemented by the screech of ripping plastic.
Jimmy smelt the salty sea spray and wanted someone to pet him and reassure him that everything was alright. He walked darkly into the lift, pressed the button for the second floor, two floors below him. Just as the glass doors of the lift closed, another wave crashed into the windows, shattering them in a harmonious, piercing manner, sending shudders and vibrations through Jimmy’s spine.
Suddenly, the storm ceased and everything went into an eerie and ghostly calmness, more frightening than the actual storm itself with the sense of impending doom. Jimmy, as the lift proudly announced to nobody in particular that it was on the second floor with a synthesised voice and loud chiming, promptly fainted.
Interrupted in his train of thought of nothing in particular, Jimmy’s owner saw him faint on the floor when the door of the lift opened. He quickly pulled him onto the prestigious but cheap carpet - which had been replaced two times from being too wet. He watched through the window as the eye of the storm departed.
Stronger than ever before after its break, the maddened, giant-like storm pelted back at the house and capsized boat. The mansion groaned in protest while the boat was hungrily shredded into tiny pieces, its final screams drowned out by the roars of the churning sea...
Finally, it was all over. Windows were broken, the mansion looked like it had just stepped out of a war. Even the grand and modernistic metal doors were torn down. It could be seen that Jimmy would not get the attention he wants.
* the benchy: a small boat often used as a benchmark for 3D printers created by CreativeTools, learn more at 3dbenchy.com.
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