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The Storm Near The ShackLoading...
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By Erika Poppy FosterAs if the world had been drained of colour, the sky turned as black as a howling wolf.
Shaking and ferociously the storm-Lion threatened all beneath it.
The sharp, harsh gales were crashing on the old and crepy shack.
The rain started hammering the ground like thousands of litte rocks, soon it became relentless.
Like razor sharp claws, the rain thrashed down on the old, crepy and hounted shack.