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.

The gifts we give children shape them and reveal what we expect of them
NYC cop’s profanity-laden threats secretly caught on videotape
Another ‘Atlas Shrugged’ moment: ‘Reasonable Profits Board’ proposed
Nobody has the right to a position in your life which you don’t want
Some people hate their enemies so badly that fairness doesn’t matter
Painful longing is too powerful to express heart’s anguish in words
I don’t regret my choices, but I do lament choices he refused to make