"And so he picked up his feet and began to run."

It was the calm before the downpour. The clouds arched across the sky from a tinted static brown to a moody grey-blue, the sun revealing itself through a patch of blinding white light. Sam looked at the old trees lining the street that were beginning to shiver with anticipation, or was it fear? His eyes lit up with the slowly building, beautiful tension, and so, with the wind suddenly whipping itself through his hair, he picked up his feet and began to run.