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The Impossible

 

Trying to manage traffic in the middle of a tropical storm like the one that is currently hitting Houston is one of the worst assignments a cop like me can have. When traffic is ten times heavier than usual because everyone in the city had heard that the freakish gigantic woman that has been terrorizing the country is coming here next, things get really close to impossible.

I’m trying to do my best as gallons upon gallons of water pour from the sky. My bright yellow raincoat is getting its limits tested. So is my patience. One of the first things my fellow Houstonians have lost when their life has been put at risk is respect for authority. All around me cars are crashing, people are insulting each other and for the most part any instruction coming from me is getting ignored.

A large black SUV has just crashed against a much smaller Corolla right in front of me. The driver in the utilitarian has no other option than to step out of his now disabled car and does the only thing that is left for him to do: vent his anger at the owner of the much larger 4x4. Suddenly trapped in traffic as a consequence of the collision, the other guy soon gets out of his vehicle. It’s easy to appreciate how tense the situation is when both men start fighting, ignoring the heavy rain that is pouring on them.

Since drivers seem to have decided to treat me like part of the urban furniture, I decide to intervene in the fight. At least my presence there will add some value. I take a couple of steps towards both men when they stop fighting. Suddenly, everyone else in the area stops doing anything else.

The ground has just shaken violently. When a second shake rocks the city again just a second later, everyone knows what’s going on. Chaos ensues. Or, to be more precise, chaos raises from the previous level to one I doubt the city had ever seen before.

We all know what’s going on. The giant woman has arrived. Instinctively, we all look up, trying to find her. We can only see the rain and the thick blackish cover of the storm clouds.

All around me car doors start to open and people start packing the aisles between cars, ignoring the incessant water falling from the sky.

And then, suddenly, the rain stops. For an instant it feels as if the raindrops have stopped right in the middle of their way towards the ground, as if someone had frozen the image. And then… then the freakiest thing yet happens: raindrops start moving upwards, back towards their clouds.

We can all hear an incredibly powerful whooshing sound and suddenly the darkness above us starts weakening, as if the rays of sun were suddenly able to find a way through.

The whooshing keeps going, as if driven by an engine with infinite energy. It shadows every other sound in the city. I try to address the two men that were about to get in a fight just a minute ago, but they cannot hear me. Up to some point, it feels like being right under a plane that has turned its engines on and is getting ready to take off.

Since I cannot communicate with anyone, there’s only one thing for me to do, really: look up.

The day keeps on getting lighter and lighter as the rainclouds keep weakening. My mind forms a theory of what may be going on, but it quickly discards it as impossible. I realize that nothing seems to be impossible anymore in this world when my eyes follow the last wisps of the formerly very dark rain clouds and I see them getting sucked into somewhere my brain needs a few seconds to acknowledge.

They are lips. And not just any lips. They are the thick and luscious lips of a young woman of unmatched beauty. Her cheekbones are high, her brown eyes are large and expressive and her brown hair is long and shiny.

The problem is her size, of course. I can see that she seems to be crouching. Well, I guess everyone in the city can see that, since there is nothing else to see. No matter where I look in the horizon, I can only see her: her perfect face, her large and impossibly firm breasts, her washboard flat stomach, her  long, silky legs. This young woman has suddenly become our entire view.

Her size is hard to acknowledge. She is way larger than any mountain I have ever seen, and yet she is clearly alive and moving. The fact that she has just sucked an entire storm inside her is just a proof of that, no matter how hard to accept the action may be.

I’m freaked out. I mean, who would not be? Needless to say, everyone around me feels the same… or worse. Mass hysteria ensues, turning the situation prior to her arrival into a walk in the park in comparison. Feeling responsible about the security of my fellow citizens (they may not mind me but I definitely care about them), I take a look around. My eyes stop when I see what’s towering over the tallest buildings on Houston’s northern neighborhoods: the tip of her big toe. The realization sends the coldest shiver yet down my spine.

I have no clue about how a young woman of those proportions can even see us down here, but she seems to be able to, since she clearly reacts to our attack of hysteria.

“WHAT’S THE PROBLEM? WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE THE RAIN BACK? I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT YOU’D BE THANKFUL. IT’S GETTING HARDER AND HARDER TO UNDERSTAND YOU MICROBES”

Her words are definitely concerning. My mind is not focused on that, though. It’s more focused on trying to match the sheer power they have, making every bone on my body rattle, with the fact that they still sound as if they had been pronounced by a girl.

“DO YOU PREFER SOME OTHER WEATHER? WHAT ABOUT THIS?”

What does she mean by that?

I get my answer soon enough, but I cannot focus too much about it because I’m sent to my knees, curling like a baby, trying to warm my body up with my hands, as I’m touched by the coldest cold I’ve ever felt.

Everyone around me seems to be doing the same and suddenly everyone’s breath is creating a thick mist around their mouths. The tarmac is getting frozen, its grayish color quickly turning white. Chunks of sidewalk are pushed up as frozen pipes cannot hold the pressure anymore and break through it.

As I try to stay warm enough not to get my life frozen out of me, I manage to focus a minor part of my brain on an already familiar sound. Terrified, I force myself to look up and I see that the mountain-woman has her lips puckered. The realization of what’s going on increases my level of despair. She is freezing the city! And she is going to freeze us all to death!

“IT SEEMS THAT CHRISTMAS HAS COME EARLY THIS YEAR” the thunderous voice says. I feel anger at the woman who has uttered the words. But there’s little I can do. I need to focus all of my energy in surviving.

“OH, WHAT’S THE PROBLEM? YOU DON’T APPRECIATE A COOL WEATHER? I THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN FED UP WITH STICKY HEAT BY NOW, BUT HEY! LET IT NOT BE SAID THAT I DID NOT AT LEAST TRY TO GIVE YOU THE WEATHER YOU WANTED”

She is toying with us. She is about to kill millions of people without even touching them and she is doing it for fun!

Then, everything changes. I feel as if I had been placed in an oven, all of he sudden. The cold goes almost as quickly as it came and we’re hit with the fiercest heat wave ever. People are passing out all around me. I drop on my knees again. I don’t have to look up to know that the mountain-woman is the responsible for the sudden change in temperature.

The notion makes me shiver, despite the heat that is now surrounding me. This woman is controlling the weather in our city as she sees fit! And she is probably causing thousands of victims just like that. I feel rage.

“WELL, SINCE I DON’T SEEM TO BE ABLE TO MAKE YOU HAPPY, I GUESS THAT I’LL LEAVE YOU WITH THE WEATHER YOU HAD WHEN I GOT HERE. IF IT’S RAIN THAT YOU WANT, THEN RAIN IS WHAT YOU’LL GET. I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND IT’S OF A DIFFERENT KIND”

I have no clue what she is referring to. When I finally recover enough physically to look in her direction I see the position she is taking and scream. I know what’s going to happen.

I see the stream of pee leaving her cunt like a waterfall an instant later. Only it’s much larger than any known waterfall in the world and it’s coming down from much higher.

I’m thrown off my feet the moment the stream hits the ground. The road around me cracks as a result of the massive shake. I see smoke quickly raising from the north of the city, in the spot where the golden liquid hit. It quickly starts taking the shape of a mushroom.

The noise of the urine dropping and hitting becomes the new soundtrack of the city. I can barely hear the screams over it. When buildings in the distance start toppling I realize what’s going to happen. I barely have time to react when a five hundred foot wall of golden warm water washes me out. 

 

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