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.

Love & Hope — Episode 1:
Democrat congressman: Tea Party wants blacks ‘hanging on a tree’
I’m terribly sorry to break it to you, but straw polls mean nothing
Truth beyond physical world is hard for a skeptical man to see
Do we choose to be free people? Or will we live as slaves to mobs?
What if other people see you or hear you differently than you do?
Not voting makes a statement: ‘You don’t have my moral consent’
For first time in my life, I fear not finding love and life I’ve needed