The sheets of rain lash down, almost maniacal in their resolve to pound everything in the way.
The lightning flashes blindingly. For a split second, there is silence, followed by the booming thunder nearby.
The water pounds and pounds. The thunder rumbles. The lightning comes again.
The storm is hitting my windshield and the wipers struggle to move the water. Their back and forth motion is hypnotic — and I wonder whether the storm I feel and hear and fear is really outside — or if it’s inside my heart.
It’s dark and it’s loud and it’s gloomy. The storm outside the car threatens me physically, but the storm inside threatens something far deeper. Far more existential. It’s pounding on my very core again.

I feel despair about evil tonight, but my cats offer some comfort
Emptiness can bring panic that feels like being stalked by fear
Poll shows half of Occupy Wall Street crowd favored Wall Street bailout
Cop’s murder has me pondering why humans kill those they love
Trivial objects have power to be containers for strong emotions
The gifts we give children shape them and reveal what we expect of them
Texas judge beating his daughter exposes truth behind coercive state
Some rewards are great enough to ignore risks and take big chances
Hurt people hurt people, and it’s hard to forgive that in ourselves