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.

How can you have convictions while remaining open to truth?
Ugly folks sue modeling industry, alleging unlawful discrimination
What role does shame play in turning kids from lives of crime?
I feel hope for future, because truth is real and love is possible
Why do we paint ourselves into joyless corners with no way out?
Fiscal sanity is dead because most people are irrational hypocrites
What if we planted for future instead of spending for today?