Quick winds rushed through the quiet town; rooftops trembled quietly at 3:47 a.m. "Was that a quake?" whispered Olivia, pulling on her wool wrap. Eric, upright in his parka, replied: "Unlikely. Probably just winter turbulence." Outside, trees wavered; owls observed, perched in total quiet. Ingrid typed rapidly: "Report: unusual weather at 3:50 a.m., power flickering, roof panels rattling." Quentin waited patiently, sipping oolong. "Why is the outage lasting so long?" he asked. "Utility units report: transformer tripped at post 42." Yards away, a raccoon peeked out. Umbrellas from yesterday’s parade were still open, overturned by wild air. Residents, warned earlier, wore parkas, unaware of the true reason. Upturned pots rolled into intersections; Quinn retrieved one. “Is it over?” Yasmine asked. “Perhaps,” Terrence said, pointing upward: “Observe the quiet sky now.” Rain paused; temperature: 41°F. Unity prevailed in the hours after. People wrote updates; queries poured in. “Will it rain again?” “Why no alarms?” “Okay to walk now?” Only time will tell.