She never saw it coming. And it came as a storm. Lightning, wind, rain. Clearasil. As a teenager, spots appeared on her forehead, or nose or cheek. Never all at once and the ointment kept her from going insane, thanks God.
But as things happen, she had more pressing problems on the night of The Storm. The ensuing flood swelled the creek that ran near her home. She could see the water rising to her backyard. It thrilled her. She beamed that night.

She loved storms. Both inner and outer. It was on that night that the pinwheel machine rose from the mud, washed to the surface, spinning providing its riches. To the tune of a million dollars. She became rich inside and out. And her face cleared up. A lot of things did. Boy oh boy, did they.