The Tornado

The pioneer town trembled as the tornado advanced, howling like a ravenous, demented jinni.
Tearful parents hunkered down in dank cellars with speechless children and prayed fervently. Husbands hugged wives as though Ragnarök had arrived. As they heard the hellish cacophony descend to earth, every man and woman and child prayed to be spared: not me, not me.
In the wake, the survivors crept out to see that the only house demolished was the preacher’s, who had prayed for the protection of the village. The pioneers, in their heart of hearts, had all wished for it not to be themselves, and so everyone’s wish had been granted.