the painfully shy thunderstorm

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We have just had a thunderstorm. It wasn't anything spectacular; more of a damp squib really. Oh, except for that rather loud BOOM!!! overhead, which caught me unawares when I prematurely thought the storm had travelled onto pastures new. She snuck in, slowly and quietly. Faint rumbles in the distance and a few bursts of light heralding her arrival. Then came the rain. Lashings and lashings. I stood at the glass doors hoping for a flash of lightning which revealed an evil murderer wielding an axe, but I don't exist in a horror film so I was left mightily disappointed. Then our painfully shy friend snuck away again, taking her rumbles {It's okay, it's just God moving his furniture around, my Mumma told me when I was little. Like a fool, I believed her,} her rubbish disco lights and her raindrops with her. And now I can sleep soundly, safe in my cosy dry bed.