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Perfect Picture
Laying back in the firm orange lounge chair, I hear the raindrops shower onto the roof. As my dad lifts up the ancient garage door to a gust of wind blowing me back. While sitting there, I wait for the ideal bolt of lightning a slight mist brushes my legs. The lights flickering as the rain flies down. The crisp wind brings goosebumps down my spine.
Seeing the first flash of lightning we count “1, 2, 3, 4, 5” to see how many miles it is from us. The
Sound of the crumbling thunder put a smile on my dad and my face. Shooting up from the orange chair, I run out the garage and whip out my phone. Trying the capture the perfect shot my clothes get soggy, as
I stand out there my dad chuckles in the garage.
I could feel the flash of lightning coming so I pulled out my phone. I saw the sky flare bright and I clicked the button, a beam of lightning struck the earth and I looked at my phone and I missed it. With my fist clenching, I knew I had to get the perfect picture. I sat back down in that firm lounge chair and took a short break. The sound of the rain blasting down faster and faster sounds like marbles hitting the concrete. The rain started to fly down and I could tell that the perfect flash of lightning was coming.
I took out my phone again and was more than ready for this bolt to strike. As I stand there in the rain with my wrinkled hands holding my phone I could feel the earth shake underneath my feet. With my eyes bulging out of my skull the best flash of lightning soaring through the sky and I snapped a picture with my phone. As the sky turned dark again I look down at my phone to see the perfect picture of the bolt of lightning in the sky.
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This piece is about my dad and I watching a storm together and trying to get a picture of the lightning.