//------------------------------//
// Summer Thunder 
// Story: In Which SPark Attempts to be Slightly Less Verbose. 
// by SPark 
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Summer thunderstorms always gave the Pie family plenty of warning.  Even if the pegasi teams hadn’t kept the storms on schedule, they still would have seen them coming.  The clouds started to the south, big, fat, black piles of cumulus.  They walked across the flat land around the farm on legs of lightning.  Thunder boomed, a low, distant grumble.  Even the scent of the air said that one was coming, a unique smell of wet earth and ozone that only accompanied a summer thunderstorm.

Pinkamena Diane Pie ought to have liked the storms.  They couldn’t work the rocks during them, so she got to stay at home.  And it was nice to play and romp with her sisters when a storm came during the day.  But this one had come marching across the fields at sunset, and now that it had reached the farm, it was dark.

Pinkie peeked out the window, then squeaked as a nearby strike of lightning flashed, close and blinding.  The accompanying boom of thunder was almost instant, the sound deafeningly loud so close.  Pinkie dove for the bed and pulled her blanket over her head.  She huddled under it, shivering.  It did help with the blinding lightning, but she could still hear the thunder.  The sound of the wind tearing at the house was audible too, a howling wail like some kind of monster prowling outside.  

She wished that, like the monsters under the bed, the blanket would keep the storm away.  The storm was too much for that, though.  It was too loud, too bright, and too big.  So much bigger than one tiny little dinky Pinkie.

Another sudden boom of thunder startled a shriek from her.  She tried to pull the blankets over her ears, but it didn’t help.

Then, even over the sound of the storm, she heard the distinctive squeak of her bedroom door’s hinges.  Hoofsteps crossed the room, audible—if only just—over the storm’s roar.  A weight settled on the edge of the bed, and a comforting hoof touched the huddled lump of scared filly beneath the covers.  

Pa Pie didn’t say anything.  Neither did Pinkie.  But she peeked her head out from under the blankets and smiled.  

And even though that lightning kept flashing, and the thunder kept crashing, with her Pa there by her,  Pinkie was able to close her eyes and sleep.