Let it be written that on this day, the fourteenth of June of the
twenty hundred and second year of our Lord, the hamlet of Albuquerque was
stricken by the wrath of God.
   It began as a harsh, hot wind sweeping across the barren wastes of the
highland desert.  Such was the force of that gale that it met me disguised
in a cloak of dust, bearing armor of sand.  I had barely begun my trek
homeward when the storm caught me, but as I stumbled for shelter the
winds abated somewhat and drops of rain began to fall.
   I grinned at my luck and set off for home through the rain and the
dust.  Silently I blessed the water and hoped that it would soon vanquish
the dirt.
   I thought, at first, that I had gotten my wish, but very soon the
drops were not just numerous but unthinkably large, and then they began
to sting.  At first I simply stared in amazement.  All around me
the road clattered with the sound.  Through the late afternoon heat fell a
heavy shower, a shower of ice.  At first I stretched out my hand to catch
some, but soon I was again searching for cover as the frozen volley
changed from pebbles to stones.
   I took shelter while the torrent raged.  Ice exploded everywhere with a
sound like thunder.  I watched and hoped that I would make it home.
   When the storm had quieted a bit, I continued on my way.  Only a few
steps from my door I was finally overcome by the madness of it all.  I
gazed out into the chaos of ice and water, I felt the sting of hail and
the chill of rain, and I laughed.
   To my surprise, my laughter was met by another.  From beneath the eaves
of the second floor a girl asked me, "Are you having fun?"  I stuttered
something about madness, and climbed up and over the railing.  The two
of us looked on as the storm redoubled its fury.  Piece by piece the sky
fell.
   The world had suddenly lost its mind, and we were not long to follow.
At the first sign of calming, the two of us set off into the fray.  The
ground was white as though covered in snow, and the footpaths were
transformed into rivers of ice.  We waded ankle deep through through the
ice water, we made designs in the hail, we laughed and stood in the warm
afternoon air as the cold, stinging rain fell upon us...

...that was my afternoon.  How was yours?