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.

Calm and perspective needed for Boston, not accusations and games
When you compromise principles, you soon won’t recognize yourself
Student scolded for saving a life; School doesn’t ‘condone heroics’
Peace won’t come until you quit obeying long-gone programmers
Too many voices with little to say: Politics matters less and less to me
Shame and Fear still stand guard over my efforts to chase dreams
There’s magic in the dark solitude and quiet stillness after midnight
Fallen world keeps bruising me, but I still believe love will win