From Hot Cross Buns:
A restaurant in the basement wasn’t Pastor Ben’s first idea when he contemplated the giant blue tarp covering the church roof. Buster Nesbit brought the tarp the morning after the thunderstorm and hung bricks on bailing twine from the side grommets to hold it on the building. Charity United looked like a bread loaf rising under a blue kitchen towel, the slightest breeze made the bricks knock on the sides of the building, and the eaves exuded the sweet fragrance of fermenting cornstalks, but at least it was dry inside. When the lightning bolt struck the cupola it sprayed down the shingles to the gutters (vintage copper salvaged from the first Charity United Church, also a casualty of lightning), from there down the drain troughs.
Could have been worse, Ben considered. Wet tarpaper under the leaky shingles channeled the electricity. Except for a few spots charred through, damage was confined to the tarpaper and shingles, which curled up like corn chips in hot oil. Pouring rain soon extinguished the flames so the firefighters found nothing to do except place buckets around the sanctuary and question the theology of a church twice lightning-struck in five years.