It Was A Dark And Stormy Night, Again

I did not actually intend to do it but somehow I wrote a version of the classic "Dark and Stormy Night" opening for a novel.

I quote:

Reality is real.

Her parents had taught her this before she learned to read.

Know this and you can know everything.

But there were those alive who did not want to know.  They sought not to know.  Only to destroy knowledge and the products of knowledge.

Another destroyer has come to us.  
Someone had stepped upon her world with the intent of smashing it to nothing.  There was nothing that would be gained from this act.  It would be the sacrifice of everything to nothing.  Absolutely nothing.      

The woman had witnessed too much of the horror over the course of her life.  She had seen her parents taken from her simply because they were the only sane people on an insane world.  See had seen her husband murdered simply because he was her husband.Would it never end?

She stared at the world outside of her office window.

It was raining in the night of an alien world.  This world was not the home of Mankind but it was now the home of her people.  It was here they found some comfort and should have found absolute sanctuary.

She gave thought to window before her.

It was both a thing invisible and a thing of beauty.  It separated and protected her from the outside environment and allowed her to see it in all its glory.

The winter thunderstorm that crashed upon the city was a thing of beauty in itself.  The flash of lightning illuminated the streets and the buildings beyond the window with a blue glow.  And the flash of light reflected from her face back upon the inside of the window.  From this image she could see the winkles beneath her eyes and the streaks of gray in her dark hair.

She could watch the passage of the storm from the safety of her office because of the applied thought of a man.

The destroyers could not conceive of a pane of glass.  Nor could they be taught how to make it.  The thoughts of rational men were nothing to them.  And the works of men that followed the thoughts were seen only as abominations to be smashed into dust.

They did not see and they did not want to see.

How does one deal with such beings?
The phone on her desk rang.  She turned and quickly lifted the receiver to speak.

“Yes?”

A man’s voice at the far end replied.

“We’re ready to proceed, ma’am.”

“Do so.”

Yes, ma’am.”

 As a result I was inspired to submit an opening sentence to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.

As follows:

"The thunderstorm that crashed upon the city was a thing of beauty, the flash of lightning illuminated the streets and the buildings beyond the window with a blue glow, with the light reflected from her face back upon the inside surface she could see the winkles beneath her eyes and the streaks of gray in her dark hair."

-- Judith