Pete and I were taking a break as we hiked up one of the easier, non-technical peaks near our apartment when we saw an ominous gray cloud approaching. Hiking was great in our new hometown; having come from a flat Midwestern city we were enamored with the wild beauty that was just ten minutes from our apartment and hiked often. We had started the hike on that beautiful, sunny late summer day just after noon, and were quite surprised to see what looked like a storm rolling in. We decided that if a thunderstorm was coming we didn’t want to be on the exposed face of a mountain and headed back to our truck. The skies were darkening as we finished our descent and drove home. We decided to order a pizza and watch a movie we had rented to enjoy the rest of our afternoon off. Pete ran down from our second-floor apartment to get the pizza when it arrived. He brought it to me on the couch and handed me the box, but the top was covered in gray dust.
He just stood there with his lopsided grin and exclaimed “That isn’t a storm cloud! It is ash!”
A volcano had erupted and was dumping its ash plume on the city.
Thanks to @mariannewest for hosting the #freewrite challenge that has me writing (nearly) everyday. Today's prompt was ash.