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.

Freedom matters more than safety, even if you can’t see that
Can love last? Man holding hand of his dying wife gives me hope
In an age when lies are expected, integrity matters more than ever
I often need this warning label: ‘Does not play well with others’
Surreal dream wakes, shakes me; which is reality, which is dream?
Pursuit of perfection leaves me feeling shame when I’m flawed
Will better marketing make you love state-controlled medical industry?