I didn’t beg the sky. I didn’t create rituals or spells. I didn’t chant in the dark. I went outside and spoke to the sky: “We need rain, we’re burning”
Florida’s been close to being on fire. The air so dry that the warnings had begun. The Earth was screaming, and I, I whispered back.
It was almost instinctual
Call it weather manipulation or weather modification. Call it madness. I call it remembering. Because somewhere between bloodlines and stardust, I remembered that rain listens. And when I say “come,” it comes.
I asked for it to pour—not to punish, but to protect. To cool the heat and press its heavy palms against the land. And what did the sky do?
It wept and raged. For days.
Then today, this dropped like cosmic punctuation:
Burn ban lifted in Hillsborough County.
You want to call that coincidence? Be my guest. But you weren’t there when the wind changed. You didn’t feel the energy shift with recognition.
I didn’t do this for credit. I did it because I could. If the world forgets what it’s made of, I won’t. I’ll remind it.
One storm at a time.
Discover more from Alien Experiencer
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
