A Storm

I am lik­ing today.

Despite being tired, there’s a dark, pow­er­ful push that lingers behind the cur­tains. That’s the best way to describe it, the best I can think of: imag­ine, if you will, a slowly brew­ing storm-cloud, a thunderhead-to-be, full of force, slowly becom­ing some­thing ter­ri­ble, inex­orable, natural.

The ‘por­ten­tous storm’ feel­ing is helped, no doubt, by the grey, wet sky and the chill expectancy that swirls around my naked toes. With the song ‘Closer’ by Kings of Leon puls­ing with dark, torn, sex­ual sob­bing out of my speak­ers, the moment crests to a per­fect, pre­cise point, and I look out the back win­dow to see the august sil­hou­ette of our res­i­dent hawk on top of the tele­phone pole.

I think it is obvi­ous that good things are on their way, just about to break into the sur­face of today.

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