The weather radio has been blaring incessantly for the last hour.  The wind against the windows sounds like a hard rain.  I venture to the back porch and gawk at the clouds curling above me, black as sin.  I check to make sure none of my neighbors are watching, then lift my hands, throw back my head, and imagine I command the storm.  When the lightning flashes bright enough for me to see the blaze behind closed eyelids, I almost believe it.

It’s time to write.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s