Shock Strike

It's the middle of the day, but you would not know it. Gloomy clouds cover the sky from horizon to distant horizon. Cars are crawling on the highway barely able to make out the white line through the deluge. The wipers are making a valiant effort but failing stupendously. Suddenly the road is illuminated with an array of vibrant colors. you can see the cars in front of you and the ones coming toward you. You can see the one, five car lengths away in the oncoming lane, blaze bright with the contact of the lightning strike. It's over as if nothing unusual has happened. And you wait for the thunder to crack so loud you will never be able to hear again, but it never comes. All is silent and still. The only noise is the constant march of the wiper blades.