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.

Spooky stories: My friends share their real-life weird experiences
You’re not watching real news; you’re watching a scripted show
Leopards might not change spots, but cowardly lions can gain courage
Media and mass hysteria lead us into madness of celebrity worship
Law profs: the Constitution means whatever we say it means
Our contradictory beliefs lead to irrational views, foolish decisions
We hate ourselves for needing other people’s approval so much
Goodbye, Molly (2008-2021)
No, Rodney King, people in this country can’t just ‘all get along’