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’ll sell you a cookie-cutter home, but I wish you loved good design
Irrational beliefs hurt all of us when you hand power to the ignorant
We who believe life has meaning have lost war for modern culture
Let’s quit trying to force others to choose our shopping preferences
Angry reactions to others can make us wrong even when we’re right
‘Conservative’ and ‘liberal’ should refer to temperament, not politics
Finding your own authentic voice is riskier than copying everybody else