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.

Obama’s new ‘AttackWatch.com’ website smells like political fear
Each experience of beauty and love stands alone, different from the rest
When I feel too much ambition, my ego has gotten too inflated
Out of touch: Most politicians, media don’t understand ‘the real world’
Lennon had ‘wrong ambitions,’ but became cultural icon anyway
Overthrow of Gaddafi no justification for attacks on other countries
I can’t get over this terrible feeling that I need to talk to you on video