I haven't included the key point here because I don't want to give it away. But this is a part of it nonetheless.
As the last bit of sun sank beyond the tall pine trees, Caroline sat on a rocking chair on her front porch gazing to the left at the mass of pink and grey clouds that were approaching; inch by inch, blanketing the purple and blue sky to the right. A storm was brewing, she could tell. It’d be one of those southern spring storms that would come with a fury, but would end nearly as quickly as it came.
Caroline enjoyed storms. It was typical of her to sit out on the porch when one rolled in. Every thirty seconds or so, the wind would pick up, causing the flag to dance erratically, the metal pole that it was attached to, which jutted out from the post by the steps, rattled violently. The flag was yellow, with a whimsical, animated scene on it. A large, red mushroom and bugs dressed in overalls, toting watering cans over to a patch of sunflowers that loomed above them. She’d bought it that day while out shopping with the children. The three girls had unanimously agreed on that one.
After the heavy, billowing clouds had swallowed the last of the blue sky, fat raindrops began to plop down one by one, then a light drizzle. A lone leaf floated from the oak tree beside the house and landed on the sidewalk. Neighbors began scurrying inside, rushing to put bicycles back into garages, rolling up car windows. It wasn’t even five minutes before the rain was coming in torrents. The wind was vehement, causing the water to slide against the asphalt pavement in ribbons.
The scent of wet grass drifted up to meet her nose. It was a nostalgic aroma that reminded her of all of the springs and summers of her past. She closed her eyes and leaned back taking in the smells and sounds. Occasionally, a vehicle would whiz by, the rubber of the tires rolling against the slick black top, making a swooshing sound as beads of moisture flew into the air and splashed back down to puddles. Caroline opened her eyes to see leaves riding on the angry breeze. Sprays of mist spritzed her, dampening her shirt, and her hair. The empty chair beside her rocked fervently and the porch swing on the other side glided as it did when the girls would sit together and pump their legs...