Excerpt from chapter 1 of a supernatural based story

DAgent

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So this is a work in progress I shelved about a year ago to concentrate on another WIP which I've now completed a second draft on. I'm giving that a rest and thought I would go back to this one. It represents a good deal of my first chapter, but not all of it as that was around 4000 words. This is 1392.

The glass window panes of the mini bus were frosted over almost completely on the outside, distorting what little light the large crescent moon gave off in the nighttime sky through the unique ice patterns that had grown both on the panels. On the inside they were coated in condensation from the breath and body heat of the passengers. Outside the snow that was already piled up around the small vehicle's wheel arches, had more height added to it as the snow storm raged ever onwards, endless and relentless in the darkness of the night, and so thick that the sky was whitewashed with snarling, fast flowing powder, hitting with a heaviness that made the vehicle rock on it’s side like an exhausted elephant.

The lightning struck once more, illuminating everything for a few brief seconds before the roar of thunder followed, like barrels rolling down a flight of steps, added to the orchestra of the wind. And then the eerie darkness of the snowstorm snapped back, leaving only the chilling whistling of the howling wind for company.

There was some light in the sky, but it was a trick. The snow lying on the ground reflected what light there was, as did the snow in the air which hung as heavy as fog, but danced in the sky like a group of drunken sailors and their partners, with neither member of any pairing being sure, or caring, who was leading.

Not that any of the three occupants could really tell it was night, the storm had robbed them of any real sights, all they had was the erry illusion of light, and they’d all lost track of time when the bus broke down after the lightning started. Then realised not one of their smartphones or smart watches were working. All they knew was it had been getting dark when the storm hit and only got darker again when the bus had stopped working, and as the storm raged ever on they were getting colder. And the storm, ever unrelenting, had just been hitting harder since then, rocking the bus with ever stronger gusts, lending a turbulent feeling of being at sea in waves no sailor would be comfortable with embracing.

And with no chance of rescue, and no way to go back.

They all sat in their seats, surrounded in equal parts darkness and what passed for self imposed silence. Whatever had caused the bus to breakdown had also killed it’s battery, no light, no radio, no heat, and conversation had run out some time ago. The closest thing they had to music was the howling of the wind as it smashed into their shelter, or the chattering of their teeth as they sat shivering in their seats. Even wrapped up in their extra clothes from their suitcases, they were still colder than any of them felt comfortable with, and no one felt comfortable to snuggle up with strangers.

Chloe Black was sat near the back, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her long dark hair, her stark blue eyes stared into nothingness, intently avoiding any chance to make eye contact with the other passengers. She was somewhere in her early twenties, mixed race with some obvious south east Asian and European features and a slightly sing-song quality to her voice, and had seemed pleasant company when she had first met the others at the airport. But that pleasantness had faded faster than the light once the troubles hit, preferring her own company, as far from the others as she could be over the last few hours.

Near the middle of the bus sat Mark Davies, an older man in his mid thirties with a scruffy looking dirty blonde beard with hints of ginger and red visible over his pale skin when the light hit it just right. He’d drifted in and out of sleep since the bus had broken down, his head had been resting on the window pane while he was off in never never land, contributing to his share of the “mist” on the window. Occasionally when he woke up (treating any onlookers to the most emerald like eyes they could imagine) he would wipe it clear, and try half heartedly to look out of the window for any sign of improvement. Never getting anything but the opposite, he tried to settle for more sleep instead.

The third passenger, Ellen Morgan, had sat behind the driver's seat. She was slightly older than Chloe and lacked her more exotic beauty or mean demeanour but had almost auburn hair filled with all the colours of autumn, and in the right light it would look like an artist had taken the colours of all the most vividly red and orange leaves and had painted them into her hair. She decided to break the long held silence between the audience, bar the winds operatics.

“What do you think happened to the driver?” He’d long since left them to go and try to get help, despite the protest from the passengers about the danger that the weather posed and the fast approaching darkness. But having checked the bus and not being able to find any fault or get the radio to work, he’d insisted he’d be able to get back to the service station they had passed a mile or two back and get help. “It’s not like his little lamp was working, I can’t see how he could have made it to the station in this weather.”

“Nothing on this bus is working.” Chloe pointed out in a dull tone, not turning her head at all to face the other woman. “The second the bus died it’s like everything else died, except us.”

“Like some weird kind of curse?” There was a bit of excitement in Ellen's voice, contrary to the boredom in the tones of Chloes.

“Hah, if you believe that kind of stuff.”

“What do you think happened then?”

“I’ve no idea, no way to know, electricals aren’t my thing, I just plug 'em in and use ‘em.”

“Be weird if it turned out to be some kind of voodoo curse or a witch doctor or something.”

“Yeah, it would,” Chloe said flatly, finally turning to face the other woman to see what she was doing. “Because for one thing this is Canada, and for another, stuff like that doesn’t exist.”

“Imagine if it did.”

“It doesn’t. It’s just an excuse to drink weird sh*t and get high and go on weird trips.”

“So, what do you think caused the bus to break?”

“I told you, I don’t know, all I do know is the expensive week away from everything I’d booked is barely one day in and for some stupid reason I’m stuck in a broken bus, in a blizzard, on a moutain road up the side of a cliff.” Chloe snapped back in annoyance. “I’m just glad he’d been driving slowly on a straight bit of road and we weren’t on any bends or corners or something.”

“Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this wonderful conversation?” Ellen said in her cheerful manner. There seemed to be little that could get her down, even the glare coming from Chloe, directed right at her like a gun primed and ready to fire, didn’t seem to have much effect on her good mood. Mark finally felt awake enough to add his two pennies to the pot of conversation as he finished rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Electrical storm,” he stated calmly and matter of factly. “That's what did it.”

“An electrical storm?” Ellen asked. “You mean all that lightning we saw before the snow hit us?”

“Yeah, that’s right, just another name for the same thing. But do you recall seeing one that hit close by? Just off to our right?”

“Yeah, yeah I do, it was pretty close, I could see the sparks from where it hit the ground. They looked like little flames from a fire. But how would that knock out the bus?”

“Lightning strikes give off an electromagnetic pulse, if they’re large enough they knock out electrics.” Mark explained while rubbing his eyes free of sleep. He looked far more awake then he had before. “I’m an engineer back home, we’ve had to do a load of R&D for the company on them lately. Long story.”
 
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I like how one of them knows what an EMP is. I'm not sure I've seen much lightning in a blizzard; does that happen in Canada? My mind is going to alien invasion. I think you've got the start of an interesting story.

The glass window panes of the mini bus were frosted over almost completely on the outside, distorting what little light the large crescent moon gave off in the nighttime sky through the unique ice patterns that had grown both on the panels.
I think that what your story suffers from the most is trying to overload the sentences with detail/information. I don't know if you should trim back the detail or just break it up into multiple sentences.
and no one felt comfortable to snuggle up with strangers.
I think that's a missing word?
 
So this is a work in progress I shelved about a year ago to concentrate on another WIP which I've now completed a second draft on. I'm giving that a rest and thought I would go back to this one. It represents a good deal of my first chapter, but not all of it as that was around 4000 words. This is 1392.

The glass window panes of the mini bus were frosted over almost completely on the outside, distorting what little light the large crescent moon gave off in the nighttime sky through the unique ice patterns that had grown both on the panels. On the inside they were coated in condensation from the breath and body heat of the passengers. Outside the snow that was already piled up around the small vehicle's wheel arches, had more height added to it as the snow storm raged ever onwards, endless and relentless in the darkness of the night, and so thick that the sky was whitewashed with snarling, fast flowing powder, hitting with a heaviness that made the vehicle rock on it’s side like an exhausted elephant.
The lightning struck once more, illuminating everything for a few brief seconds before the roar of thunder followed, like barrels rolling down a flight of steps, added to the orchestra of the wind. And then the eerie darkness of the snowstorm snapped back, leaving only the chilling whistling of the howling wind for company.
There was some light in the sky, but it was a trick. The snow lying on the ground reflected what light there was, as did the snow in the air which hung as heavy as fog, but danced in the sky like a group of drunken sailors and their partners, with neither member of any pairing being sure, or caring, who was leading.
Not that any of the three occupants could really tell it was night, the storm had robbed them of any real sights, all they had was the erry illusion of light, and they’d all lost track of time when the bus broke down after the lightning started. Then realised not one of their smartphones or smart watches were working. All they knew was it had been getting dark when the storm hit and only got darker again when the bus had stopped working, and as the storm raged ever on they were getting colder. And the storm, ever unrelenting, had just been hitting harder since then, rocking the bus with ever stronger gusts, lending a turbulent feeling of being at sea in waves no sailor would be comfortable with embracing.
And with no chance of rescue, and no way to go back.
They all sat in their seats, surrounded in equal parts darkness and what passed for self imposed silence. Whatever had caused the bus to breakdown had also killed it’s battery, no light, no radio, no heat, and conversation had run out some time ago. The closest thing they had to music was the howling of the wind as it smashed into their shelter, or the chattering of their teeth as they sat shivering in their seats. Even wrapped up in their extra clothes from their suitcases, they were still colder than any of them felt comfortable with, and no one felt comfortable to snuggle up with strangers.
Chloe Black was sat near the back, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her long dark hair, her stark blue eyes stared into nothingness, intently avoiding any chance to make eye contact with the other passengers. She was somewhere in her early twenties, mixed race with some obvious south east Asian and European features and a slightly sing-song quality to her voice, and had seemed pleasant company when she had first met the others at the airport. But that pleasantness had faded faster than the light once the troubles hit, preferring her own company, as far from the others as she could be over the last few hours.
Near the middle of the bus sat Mark Davies, an older man in his mid thirties with a scruffy looking dirty blonde beard with hints of ginger and red visible over his pale skin when the light hit it just right. He’d drifted in and out of sleep since the bus had broken down, his head had been resting on the window pane while he was off in never never land, contributing to his share of the “mist” on the window. Occasionally when he woke up (treating any onlookers to the most emerald like eyes they could imagine) he would wipe it clear, and try half heartedly to look out of the window for any sign of improvement. Never getting anything but the opposite, he tried to settle for more sleep instead.
The third passenger, Ellen Morgan, had sat behind the driver's seat. She was slightly older than Chloe and lacked her more exotic beauty or mean demeanour but had almost auburn hair filled with all the colours of autumn, and in the right light it would look like an artist had taken the colours of all the most vividly red and orange leaves and had painted them into her hair. She decided to break the long held silence between the audience, bar the winds operatics.
“What do you think happened to the driver?” He’d long since left them to go and try to get help, despite the protest from the passengers about the danger that the weather posed and the fast approaching darkness. But having checked the bus and not being able to find any fault or get the radio to work, he’d insisted he’d be able to get back to the service station they had passed a mile or two back and get help. “It’s not like his little lamp was working, I can’t see how he could have made it to the station in this weather.”
“Nothing on this bus is working.” Chloe pointed out in a dull tone, not turning her head at all to face the other woman. “The second the bus died it’s like everything else died, except us.”
“Like some weird kind of curse?” There was a bit of excitement in Ellen's voice, contrary to the boredom in the tones of Chloes.
“Hah, if you believe that kind of stuff.”
“What do you think happened then?”
“I’ve no idea, no way to know, electricals aren’t my thing, I just plug 'em in and use ‘em.”
“Be weird if it turned out to be some kind of voodoo curse or a witch doctor or something.”
“Yeah, it would,” Chloe said flatly, finally turning to face the other woman to see what she was doing. “Because for one thing this is Canada, and for another, stuff like that doesn’t exist.”
“Imagine if it did.”
“It doesn’t. It’s just an excuse to drink weird sh*t and get high and go on weird trips.”
“So, what do you think caused the bus to break?”
“I told you, I don’t know, all I do know is the expensive week away from everything I’d booked is barely one day in and for some stupid reason I’m stuck in a broken bus, in a blizzard, on a moutain road up the side of a cliff.” Chloe snapped back in annoyance. “I’m just glad he’d been driving slowly on a straight bit of road and we weren’t on any bends or corners or something.”
“Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this wonderful conversation?” Ellen said in her cheerful manner. There seemed to be little that could get her down, even the glare coming from Chloe, directed right at her like a gun primed and ready to fire, didn’t seem to have much effect on her good mood. Mark finally felt awake enough to add his two pennies to the pot of conversation as he finished rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Electrical storm,” he stated calmly and matter of factly. “That's what did it.”
“An electrical storm?” Ellen asked. “You mean all that lightning we saw before the snow hit us?”
“Yeah, that’s right, just another name for the same thing. But do you recall seeing one that hit close by? Just off to our right?”
“Yeah, yeah I do, it was pretty close, I could see the sparks from where it hit the ground. They looked like little flames from a fire. But how would that knock out the bus?”
“Lightning strikes give off an electromagnetic pulse, if they’re large enough they knock out electrics.” Mark explained while rubbing his eyes free of sleep. He looked far more awake then he had before. “I’m an engineer back home, we’ve had to do a load of R&D for the company on them lately. Long story.”
Umm I feel like I couldn't see this scene at all.

A bus is growing colder and there are some people inside. I read this and get no sense that these are people in a tough situation.

I feel like if it was just one characters point of view on the inside of the bus descirbing what they are seeing with sensory description would let this be a scene at least.
 
I like how one of them knows what an EMP is. I'm not sure I've seen much lightning in a blizzard; does that happen in Canada? My mind is going to alien invasion. I think you've got the start of an interesting story.


I think that what your story suffers from the most is trying to overload the sentences with detail/information. I don't know if you should trim back the detail or just break it up into multiple sentences.

I think that's a missing word?
I've no idea about lightning during blizzards in natural weather, but this is meant to be far from natural in any case. And yes, too much detail in my narration seems to be a recurring issue for me. I'll work on that for sure. Along with the possible missing word because that sentence has always bugged me a bit, I just haven't figured out how to edit out the issue. Yet.
 
Umm I feel like I couldn't see this scene at all.

A bus is growing colder and there are some people inside. I read this and get no sense that these are people in a tough situation.

I feel like if it was just one characters point of view on the inside of the bus descirbing what they are seeing with sensory description would let this be a scene at least.
For the time being I am sticking with just one characters POV, but there are parts where I do go a bit outside that criteria and I need to tighten it up.
 
I've no idea about lightning during blizzards in natural weather, but this is meant to be far from natural in any case. And yes, too much detail in my narration seems to be a recurring issue for me. I'll work on that for sure. Along with the possible missing word because that sentence has always bugged me a bit, I just haven't figured out how to edit out the issue. Yet.

I keep wanting to read "and no one felt comfortable to snuggle up with strangers" as "no one felt uncomfortable enough to snuggle up to strangers" or perhaps you were going for "no one felt comfortable with snuggling up to strangers."
 
DAgent, don't forget that the forum's software rips out formatting -- although you indented for each new para, that's not visible here, so it's necessary to add in a line's space between paragraphs instead, otherwise it's just a wall of text that's very off-putting. I've edited your post to add the lines for you, to make it easier to read, but do remember to do this next time -- you have a hour to edit after posting as well -- as it would be a shame to discourage members from reading and commenting on your work.
 
I keep wanting to read "and no one felt comfortable to snuggle up with strangers" as "no one felt uncomfortable enough to snuggle up to strangers" or perhaps you were going for "no one felt comfortable with snuggling up to strangers."
It might read better as "but no one felt comfortable snuggling up with strangers"
 
DAgent, don't forget that the forum's software rips out formatting -- although you indented for each new para, that's not visible here, so it's necessary to add in a line's space between paragraphs instead, otherwise it's just a wall of text that's very off-putting. I've edited your post to add the lines for you, to make it easier to read, but do remember to do this next time -- you have a hour to edit after posting as well -- as it would be a shame to discourage members from reading and commenting on your work.
I'll have to remember that in future, thanks.
 
So, here we are over a year later, and I've reworked this first chapter a bit.
---

The thin window panes of the rattly old minibus were almost completely frosted over on the outside. The insides weren’t much better, almost a warzone between ice and condensation from the passengers' breath and body heat, distorting what little light the large crescent moon hanging in the nighttime sky gave through their icey patterns. Outside, the snow, already piled high around the wheel arches, gained more height from the relentlessly ragging snow storm. The snarling powder flowing so fast, left the sky whitewashed while hitting with a heaviness lent by the wind, rocking the vehicle around like an exhausted panicking elephant.

“Christ! It’s getting colder!” snarled the old man sitting near the bus’s middle, turning away from his foggy view. Shivering, he pulled up the blankets the others had found him. He’d only given his first name, Ralph, refusing to tell anyone his surname.“I wish that damned driver had never left us! Some homecoming!”

The breakdown had happened just after the lightning started. Their driver, Sal, had left during a lull, insisting on returning to the little garage they’d passed earlier to get help, despite the passengers' protests about the danger posed by the weather and the fast approaching darkness. Whatever had caused the breakdown had also killed the battery, leaving no light, no radio, no heat, and real conversation had run out some time ago.

Chloe Black sat at the back, desperately fiddling with her smartphone, again. “Phone still won’t work!” she declared, her voice's sing-song quality harshly punctuating her words. “We should have stopped at the garage, and stayed there like those hikers had.”

The lightning struck once more, briefly illuminating everything for mere seconds before the roar of thunder followed, like barrels rolling down a flight of steps, adding to the orchestra of the wind as the eerie darkness of the snowstorm snapped back. The chilling howls of the whistling wind joined the band, accompanied by the ancient bus rattling along tunelessly, with contributions from the chattering teeth as they shivered in their seats.

“You whine almost as much as my wife did when she was younger, Chloe,” Ralph responded. “It doesn’t help much, in fact, it won’t help at all. Try to get some sleep like the others are.”

As if on cue, the lightning decided to make its presence known again. Chloe gritted her teeth, put away her phone and stared at the back of the old man’s head as best she could in the darkness. Absent-mindedly, she played with a strand of her long, almost jet black hair, her stark blue eyes now staring into nothingness, intently avoiding any chance at making eye contact with anyone. She was somewhere in her early twenties, mixed race with some slight south east Asian features but more obvious European looks, all covered in heavy duty makeup. She’d seemed pleasant company when they’d met at the airport, but that had faded faster than the light once their troubles hit, preferring her own company, as far from the others as she could be as the temperature dropped.

“What do you think happened to the driver?” Ellen Morgan said from behind the driver's seat.“It’s not like his little lamp was working, I can’t see how he could have made it to the station in this weather.”

Ellen was slightly older than Chloe and lacked her more exotic beauty or mean demeanour, but in the right light you might think an artist had taken the most vividly red and orange leaves and painted them into her locks, leaving her auburn hair with all the best colours of autumn. She’d just woken up a few minutes after Ralph and Chloes latest exchange, and decided to break what she’d assumed was the long held silence between the audience of the wind's operatics.

“Nothing on this bus is working, stupid driver.” Chloe pointed out in a dull tone, not turning her head at all to face the other woman, preferring to stare at a frosted window. “The second the bus died it’s like everything else died, except us.”

“Like some weird kind of curse?” There was a hint of excitement in Ellen's voice, contrary to Chloe's bored tones.

“Hah, if you believe that kind of stuff.”

“What do you think happened then?”

“I’ve no idea, no way to know. Electricals aren’t my thing, I just plug 'em in and use ‘em.”

“Be weird if it turned out to be some kind of voodoo curse or a witch doctor or something.”

“Yeah, it would,” Chloe said flatly, finally turning to face the other woman to see what she was doing. “Because for one thing this is Canada, and for another, stuff like that doesn’t exist.”

“Imagine if it did.”

“It doesn’t. It’s just an excuse to drink weird sh*t and get high and go on weird trips.”

“So, what do you think caused the bus to break?”

“I told you, I don’t know! All I do know is the expensive week away from everything I’d booked is barely one day in and for some stupid reason I’m stuck in a broken bus, in a blizzard, on a mountain road up the side of a cliff!” Chloe snapped back in annoyance. “I’m just glad he’d been driving slowly on a straight bit of road and we weren’t on any bends or corners or something.”

“Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this wonderful conversation?” Ellen said in her cheerful manner.

There seemed to be little that could get her down, even the glare coming from Chloe, directed right at her like a gun cocked and ready to fire, didn’t seem to have much effect on her good mood. Ralph chuckled at the conversation he could overhear, while the last remaining passenger sat near the middle, finally feeling awake enough to add his two pennies to the conversation pot as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

“Electrical storm,” he stated calmly, matter of factly, sleeplily. “That's what did it.”

Mark Davies was in his mid thirties. His scruffy looking dirty blonde beard had hints of ginger and red visible over his pale skin when hit just right by the light. His head had been resting on the window pane while he’d been drifting off to never never land, contributing to his share of the ‘mist’ on the glass. Occasionally when he’d woken up (treating any onlookers to the most emerald like eyes they could imagine) he’d wipe it clear, and try half heartedly to look out for any sign of improvement. Never getting anything but the opposite, he tried to settle for more sleep instead.

“An electrical storm?” Ellen asked. “You mean all that lightning we saw before the snow hit us?”

“Yeah, that’s right, just another name for the same thing. But do you recall seeing one that hit close by? Just off to our right? Landing amongst all those trees?”

“Yeah, yeah I do, it was pretty close. I could see the sparks from where it hit the ground. They looked like little flames from a fire. But how would that knock out the bus?”
 
The details of the weather and how the characters are reacting to it seem off to me. I've spent my whole life in places with cold, snowy winters, and been stranded in vehicles in snow storms a good half dozen times at least. I understand it's supernaturally weird weather, but should still have some consistency with natural phenomena or else be remarked upon by the characters as extraordinary.

Mostly, the weather descriptions are inconsistent as to whether it's really dangerously cold for our characters in their situation and they need to take action to ensure survival, or whether the weather is just making for hazardous travel conditions and the character are trapped but safe for the time being.


For example:

1. Thunder/Lightening in a snowstorm. It does happen but a rare and remarkable occurrence, something that would probably impress or frighten characters even if they are used to snowstorms and blizzards. Most likely to happen in a (relatively) warm wet snowstorm.

2. Frost on windows. Frost is frozen condensation. The (relatively) warm humid air inside the bus of breathing humans hits the cold bus window and condenses and then because the bus is getting so cold, it freezes. This happens when it is really ****ing cold in the the bus. IF windows are frosted inside passengers will be getting so cold as to worry about survival. More likely to be sitting on their hands for warmth than poking their frigid fingers at dead phones.

3. Frost on outside of windows would not usually happen during a snowstorm with wind etc, b/c the water vapor in the air is not sitting still to condense. The outside of the windows might get plastered with snow, or they might get crusted with ice, b/c at first the bus is warm and snow melts when it his the warm window, but at some point the water starts to freeze again and you may get a crust of ice with snow sticking to it, but it's not frost.

4. Powdery, blowing snow. Powdery snow that blows around in drifts is pretty dry stuff and more common when it's really very cold. Heavier, wetter snow piles up faster but doesn't really blow around after hitting the ground. If the snow is powdery, and the wind is strong enough to rock the bus, then the wind is most like also blowing in and chinks in the doors/windows/seams of bus and making passengers very uncomfortable.

5. Teeth-chattering and shivering: A person is really uncomfortably cold and on the way to hypothermia by the time teeth are chattering, endurable short-term if they have a way to warm back up, but the tooth-chatterer will soon find it hard to think of anything but how to get warm.
 
Mark Davies was in his mid thirties. His scruffy looking dirty blonde beard had hints of ginger and red visible over his pale skin when hit just right by the light. His head had been resting on the window pane while he’d been drifting off to never never land, contributing to his share of the ‘mist’ on the glass. Occasionally when he’d woken up (treating any onlookers to the most emerald like eyes they could imagine) he’d wipe it clear, and try half heartedly to look out for any sign of improvement. Never getting anything but the opposite, he tried to settle for more sleep instead.

I think you can clean this up and streamline it. Also, as a rule, I would avoid parentheticals on non-epistolary portions.

In his mid thirties and with a scruffy blond and ginger beard that hid his pale skin, Mark Davies rested his head on the window as he drifted off to sleep. Frozen domes of condensation dotted the window in front of his mouth. He'd jerked awake, again, and wiped the little dots off the window, again, as he looked outside for any signs of improvement. But he found none. Again.
 
The details of the weather and how the characters are reacting to it seem off to me. I've spent my whole life in places with cold, snowy winters, and been stranded in vehicles in snow storms a good half dozen times at least. I understand it's supernaturally weird weather, but should still have some consistency with natural phenomena or else be remarked upon by the characters as extraordinary.
It's partly intentional for the weather to be wrong due to the supernatural elements. The laws of physics are going to be put through the wringer in this tale, and the characters are also not local and certainly not used to the weather or have any real knowledge of it and what would be right or wrong with it. Bar the bus driver (whose a bit of an idiot in any case) and the old man who is a local and might have seen this before as it ties into a greater mystery regarding the area the story hasn't gotten to just yet.
 

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