A poem.... er... paragraph?

     So, readers I am working hard on the haunted house, and have a meeting coming up for the Christmas play I am putting up. But for now, no interesting developments on those yet.

Instead, I'm going to share a pinch of fiction I just whipped up.

I read a prompt on Google+ from Lee Shelly Allen, suggesting that I write a poem based on five elements of a T.S. Elliot Play. Those Elements were: 

The Burial of the Dead
A Game of Chess
The Fire Sermon
Death by Water
What the Thunder Said

I completely forgot that a poem was the goal, and accidentally wrote a pair of paragraphs instead. So, here they are!

     The young man clenched the cold rail of the balcony, sliding side to side, and watching the patterns left in the drops of water there. The rain pressed down on him, heavy as the decisions ahead of him. The clouds flashed above him, casting his shadow straight down. the roar of the thunder started him out of his thoughts. He took a moment to view his surroundings. He was a quarter of a mile above the street, looking over the city he now ruled. Another burst of thunder, this time from over the bridge, reminded him of how it had all happened. The bridge was still smoking, dripping rubble and steel from the terrorist bomb that had killed hundreds, including the old mayor. Like so many others, she had died trapped in her car, after the bridge had collapsed, sunken in the river. The young man swirled the water on the rail again, and it made him feel ill.

     He was pulled from his thoughts by a shout from an advisor, calling him inside from the glass door of the balcony. The young man put on a strong face, and walked inside, his suit clinging to his skeleton. He was shuffled into a tall chair by a fireplace, and several advisors began to talk to him, planning the memorial. He tried to listen, tried to show his best side, but he was lost in his head. The flames held his eyes, whispering, “you’re not ready, boy.” They were right, of course, he knew he was too young for what was coming to him. Then the thunder roared again, as if to cry out “nonsense! You are greatness!” He didn’t know what to believe. This job was supposed to be an opportunity, but suddenly, he felt like he was trapped, with crushing pressure around him. The pressure pushed through the windshield, and his lungs filled with water. The fire popped, and he was back in the meeting.

Hopefully you enjoyed that. Also, feel free to follow me on Google Plus!