Lightning and Thunder

Flash.
Boom.
Flash – the sudden shock the brain when I saw the scene.
Boom...the realization slowly starting to dawn.
Flash-white skin, pale moonlit sheets through cracked windows. The damage turned the shadows into grasping, alien fingers and my chest into a charging, raging static breath.
BOOM. A gasp that brought me to my knees. The inhalation brought in a sweet smell – strawberries and blood.
Flash, flash, FLASH, and revelation. There she lay, my beautiful one, my angel, my divinity. The only good thing I'd created. My daughter...
Boom...almost an afterthought, distant. My son...he was holding the box of strawberries. I hadn't even seen him.
FLASH- rage, white hot and full of unreasonable but perfect guilt. Why? WHY?! Where?
BOOM- There! Close. Here.
Their mother had finally come home. Her knife was as wet as her lips, and both smelled of strawberries.
Flash...flash...flash...boundary strikes, the edges of a roiling storm. The static breaths were rattling and writhing in my lungs and I found my feet in a sparking, sudden rise.
Boom...more of a rumble or a purr. Her white dress was perfect, the color and brightness of thunderbolts. She rose to meet me, took her lips with min-
FLASH! Hands grasping, nails digging, a knife clattering to the floor, forgotten. This was a primal grapple, rolling over the broken remains of our futures. Our best mistakes, disheveled while he reached for each other.
BOOM – her head struck the headboard, not once but BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!
The faint flicker FLASH of a knife not so far away.
The sick little boom...boom...boom, thud of metal hitting bone hitting wood and leaking blood.

I barely heard the flash of the sirens.
I didn't feel the booms upon my backs of their batons.

The storm had come back into my home.
She was just how I remembered her.