"Wow, that was a fun."
"Yeah, it was."
Water dripped on the floor as they ran through the house and out onto the deck watching the lightning. It scared her at first but then it was like she had never seen anything so beautiful and menacing. Except perhaps her 8th grade Science teacher, Mr. Hanson. He was an odd man, with a thick black unibrow and wrinkles that resembled an old cartographer's first attempt at the East Coast of South America. He had a sinister laugh, not unlike the thunder shaking the ground under her feet.
She remembers thinking he didn't like chemistry very much for being a teacher and thought how odd it was that he had a wife and kids who thought the world of him.
He must have drugged them into thinking he was a good man, she surmised.
And then she remember the picture of the cat on his desk. Maybe he was a gentle soul. Perhaps a kindred spirit. After all she loved cats.
It occurred to her too late to not stand outside when lighting is afoot. Her cats meowed at her funeral.
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.