The slender old man reached for his pipe. He knew no worries, all he knew was how the putrid smoke would feel as it made its way down his windpipe. But the thunder, it did not phase him. The loud noise and the flash of night accompanying it did nothing to distract him. He had a mission to accomplish. He was biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity. That’s when the lights went out.

His safe house had been made. He heard the footsteps of 5… no 6 men approaching. The first shot was taken and if not for his honed instincts through years on the job, the bullet would have pierced his temple. The thunder, oh it did not phase him rather it helped him. The flash of thunder allowed him to gather the position of his assailants. He had the advantage of knowing the space around him.
He shuffled his weight, threw the windpipe towards the man closest to him, while his other hand reached for a small round table on his side. Minute flashes of the bullets helped him gauge his next move. The small room rumbled with the sound of hasty but careful footsteps and the distinctive tink of the bullet shells hitting the wooden panels.

The intermittent flashes of the bullets and the thunder showed him many things and then one of those flashes showed him something which he never expected to see. He did not want to see it here nor anywhere else, not now or ever. Two of the shadows belonged to his Son and Daughter. The thunder phased him out now, sucked the life out of him and before he could think, survival instinct took over and two flashes from his gun found their target. Bang on. The light went out again, for the second time tonight. This time from his heart.