Fooling Around

Dusk, and billowing clouds sprawl across the horizon. Bright blue contrasts with the grey of a janitor's uniform. The line of the storm approaches. Sheets of rain slant down, a wall of water draws nearer. As the edge of the storm tumbles through the sky over my head, I being to think I should seek refuge inside.... whoa, hey, I'm writing in present tense. I made a pact with myself to only ever write in past tense. It's not my fault. It just slipped out. What would the first few sentences sound like in past tense?

Dusk, and billowing clouds were sprawled across the horizon. Bright blue sky contrasted with the grey of a janitor's uniform. The line of the storm approached. Sheets of rain slanted down, a wall of water drew nearer. As the edge of the storm tumbled through the sky over my head, I thought perhaps I should seek refuge inside. I turned in a slow circle, looking for shelter in my surroundings. There was no 'inside', not exactly, but there was 'underneath'. Underneath was a downgrade from inside, but it was decidedly better than 'in the open.' I jogged across the meadow towards the enormous slab of granite, which poked from the ground at an angle so as to form an overhang. The first raindrops, harbingers of an awesome storm, pelted my increasingly viscous vicinity. Wait. Viscous vicinity? No. Vicious vicinity. That's better. My surroundings were not made of molasses. In fact, quite the opposite. The lighting threw all lines into sharp relief, including the wrinkled edges of a crushed beer can. Someone had gotten drunk in this spot. This boulder offered all sorts of refuse. I mean refuge.  

"Hey!" I shouted at the storm. "Knock it off!" The storm could hear me, I was sure, but it paid me no mind. Perhaps I had not been specific enough. "Knock what off?" it may have wondered. "I am doing many things. I am raining, I am hailing. I am blowing, I am sailing. Through the sky. I'm under a lot of pressure." This last reproach reached my mind, and I yelled, "False. You're a low pressure system."

The storm thought about that for a moment, and then broke down in tears at the realization of how deceived it had been. Unfortunately, this ended our discourse, for the sound of the storm's tears pounding the ground, the rock, all of existence, drowned out anything else I would have liked to say.