This week's Sunday's Whirligig is probably the most difficult I've come across, but I love a challenge. The given words are anger stride vein nonsense lagging topmost clear silver extravagant thunderheads joy and chalk. I've used all but one.
An explosion of sound drags me to my feet.
Not a sound, the stillness is palpable, time stands still.
The Thunderheads, top of the bill, extravagant, anarchic, rebellious.
I stand at the topmost point of the white chalk cliff and gaze at the shimmering silvery blue sea.
Shrieking guitars, thumping drums, and a booming base assault my senses.
Nothing but the occasional song from a hovering bird breaks the perfect silence.
Striding the stage, gripping the microphone, his face contorted, veins raised he screams and screeches.
A fox darts before me, stops, stares, one paw poised then continues on its way.
The bouncing crowd soaks up the anger, wrath and rage he spits from his mouth.
I relish the clear cloudless sky, the calm, the utter tranquillity. Time lagging, my mind fills with nothing but joy.
~ Too soon it’s all over ~
The swaying green grass beneath my feet no more.
The pounding music ended, unforgettable.