…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.


Caleb wasn’t himself lately. Sure, every once in a while he’d dump some heavy rain here and there, maybe kick up some wind now and then, but that was about it.

He was off his game. He was no longer the one who turned a nice vacation spot into a disaster area, the one who destroyed homes, the one who struck fear into the hearts of those in his path. He just wasn’t feeling it any more. He figured, why bother?

He had even had thoughts of heading out to sea to fizzle himself out. It was right around that time that it hit him: He was no longer a tropical storm.

He was a tropical depression, and he needed help.

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