As he sat stunned by the spectacular sights of semi-trucks being twisted and tossed across the skies of Texas, he could not help but grieve on the partiality of the natural disasters. The developed countries get such spectacular forms of disaster, while the developing countries get the boring kinds - floods, droughts, heat waves, cold waves et al. Why can't the poor people and their vehicles be embraced by a powerful tornado? Even if they die playing in the twister, atleast their family members will get to tell the posterity with supreme pride, 'your grandfather died fighting a tornado'. So much better than 'your grandfather was found floating on the flood waters' or 'your grandfather died of a heat stroke'.
So he sat there, infront of the TV set, hoping that there is a tornado in his town soon, twisting, twirling, tossing trees and trucks alike.