The Roaring Sky

It wasn't often that you would hear a large jet in the sky, let alone three in one morning.  This wasn't one of the well traveled routes or larger cities with a place for them to come and go.  But this day there was something different going on and it made him wonder.

Was there some atmospheric anomaly that was causing planes that were always there yet less pronounced to drop lower and therefore become more prominent amidst the constant patter of the raindrops of winter on the roads and roofs outside? Or did this anomaly simply carry the sound from them further than usual and fill the wide space of grey with the low, long drone as they slowly made their way first within range, then without?

Then in the afternoon, though it was on the far side of the solstice and the days were meant to be longer, the sun disappeared altogether, and the light outside went from faint and dreary to dead and gone.  And the roar came again.  And it got louder and lingered on while first the windows and shelf items rattled and then the ground and everything loose upon the earth outside, and finally the blasting light not from the sun but from some infinitely brighter alien source that poured through every opening including the  badly settled cracks around those openings, and the loudness of the roar turned to a hum that never ended because it was produced in the head of the listener in place of what had once been their functional hearing.