A fierce wind kicked up and blew my hair all around. I paused at the corner where our street met the main road and looked out toward the horizon. A storm was approaching from the west. I shivered. The wind was cold.
The sky was darkening by the second, but I didn't move. There was an ominous feeling, and as I looked at the clouds I knew that there were things in them, strange and otherworldly things moving in with the weather.
"The phantom arrives upon the storm" I said, to no one in particular. The wind began to howl.
When I woke up, a cold wind was battering my windows. I wondered (still wonder, really) if the phantom hadn't arrived after all.
