Imaginary Scenario

"The flicker of the candle's flame illuminated the bare table slightly, creating a play of shadows on the walls confining the kitchen; the door to the yard showed a dark-tinted light from outside, so bleak it made me forget whether I should dine or have breakfast. The rain battered on the glass-door displaying the immitigable storm and the bright black, drenched soil; cold drops splattered on the door so harshly that, had the rain been blood-colored, a crimson mess would be staining the surfaces for evermore, leaving me testimony of a dire tragedy. A thunder echoed in the sky, an aggressive flash of white appeared and faded rapidly, I witnessed all this from the chair I sat in; the rain soaked the thousand and one thoughts that heavily burdened my mind, but each came from one: I had to free myself from the wicked heirloom."