A storm destroys your uncle’s shed and kills his six-year-old son. Describe the color of the sky right before the storm hit.
We could tell a storm was coming. The sky was a silvery gray, luminous while at the same time gloomy, as if the sun was hidden inside a ball of mesh. The clouds were yanked across the sky as the wind picked up. “They’re predicting a bad one; best get all the windows closed and the doors latched.” So the adults moved to see to things requiring closing and latching, while Charlie, my six-year-old cousin, went to make sure his tonka trucks were safe. I can still see his yellow t-shirt as he moved into the gloom of the shed. Ten minutes later he was dead.
Next week: Name the trees that stood in the neighborhood where you grew up.