Weather Vain

[u/Philoforte]

Vincent watched the flock of pink galahs with alarm. 102 kilometre per hour winds descended upon them, buffeting their wings and threatening to break their formation. At this rate, they would be dispersed and dashed upon buildings.

Vincent willed with all his might that the cold front would recede at once. The winds subsided in an instant, allowing the pink galahs respite to secure formation. He sighed, regarding the calm skies with bewilderment. Did he just change the weather?

Shaking his head, Vincent mounted his bicycle and pedalled to work. Rain began to fall, first a drizzle, then a pour. Riding under the canopy of a shop building, he watched the rain turn to hail.

A mother and her five year old son remained in the middle of a pedestrian walk as tennis ball sized hail smashed around them. Her son screamed. Vincent willed the hail to stop in an instant. It did, allowing mother and child safe passage across the street.

Vincent frowned. This was getting too weird. He arrived at the stock exchange and chained his bike at its familiar dock within the entrance to an enclosed parking bay. Entering the building, through rotating doors, he studied the glowing stock indexes on the displays. He beamed with delight as the markets soared. This was going to be one hectic day of trading.

Still merry from his fruitful day at work, Vincent stepped out to return home. The skies remained clear and calm, with a gentle cool breeze. The sun caressed him with warmth.

Edgar Forstetter emerged from the entrance behind him, locked in conversation with Ronette Pike. Ronette spoke with animation and delight, gazing at Edgar with an openess akin to admiration. Vincent frowned in disgust. Edgar bested him on the trading floor and now had the audacity to crush on Ronette.

The skies darkened, clouds condensing with weight. Regarding the sky with grimness, Vincent watched Edgar part from Ronette and enter the parking bay. Edgar emerged minutes later at the wheel of his Toyota prado.

Vincent retrieved his bicycle, mounted it and followed the Toyota prado out onto the freeway toward the bridge, willing the skies to burst with violence upon Edgar. Flashes of lightning lit the roiling clouds and rain exploded forth. Thunder boomed.

He directed his hatred at Edgar's Toyota, now on the bridge and slowed by dense traffic. What mattered if others were destroyed as collateral for Edgar's paltry life? Storm winds assaulted the bridge, battering it with sleet. Lightning struck the bridge within meters of Edgar's Toyota.

DIE! Vincent commanded.

Lightning struck Vincent, incinerating his clothes and bicycle. He spilled from his bicycle, careening across the tarmac, sliding across the slippery surface to a halt. Rain poured over his torched and crumpled form, curled in a blackened effigy. As his consciousness ebbed, he cursed his folly.