I should have heeded the first warning signs: the acidic smell and the metallic taste of the ozone in the air. At least the dark clouds and the grumbling thunder should have made me walk faster. But no, I had to stay and admire the handiwork of our trusty gardener.

Only when the wind flogged me with his icy whip and the hair on my naked forearms started to rise did I start running to seek shelter. The first raindrops soaked into my thin T-shirt and tickled my short hair.

I could feel the static electricity rising around me, goosebumps flocked over my legs and back.

CRACK my eardrums shattered, my teeth rattled, a million ants crawled out of every pore in my body.

I’ve had nightmares of being struck by lightning, but they were mere ghosts of the real thing.

I stumbled, grazed my knees on the stony ground, scraped my hands trying to stay my fall. Bleeding and disorientated I curled up into a ball and stayed there in the open, shivering, my tears mixing with the ferocious rain until my parents found me.