KevinZhang135
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Storms brewed on the emotionless horizon promising nothing but winds to level even the mightiest of trees. Torrential rain poured down in icy sheets like needles upon my face. The wind didn’t howl, it screamed. The rain was not falling: it was driven, hard, merciless, torrential. The trees did not sway, they creaked, bent and moaned as their fine limbs were ripped away and their autumnal leaves became not confetti, but ammunition in the gale.

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