it was a dark and stormy night. . .

The trees and bushes swayed and thrashed wildly in the relentless wind. The rain came down in sheets, hammering the windows and the sides of the old creaking house. A thick layer of clouds covered the dark sky, and claps of mighty thunder broke through as lightening flashed in the mist. The girl was scared, and all alone. She wrapped a warm blanket over her shoulders and sat huddled on the couch in the half-darkness. She wondered whether to close the blinds and try to shut out the storm, or to open them, and greet the unfriendly sky. Knowing she had a hundred other things to do, she sat. Watching thousands of angry raindrops pound to the ground, creating a river in the street and puddles in the grass. Hearing the rumble in the clouds, like an upset beast- growling and churning, waiting to strike. The girl shuddered with each jolt of thunder, its power shaking her body and pressing in on her ears. Thoughts of tornadoes and other monsters tumbled in her worried mind. The threatening storm loomed over her, casting its black shadow upon her heart.



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Yes, the girl is me. This is my street. Picture captured at 9:57 AM on a summer morning. Today. August 4, 2009. My first day of no clinic and no class.

I had hoped to wake up to the sun, to go for a jog, eat my cheerios and gulp down a cup of orange juice with light rays glinting off the glass.

Too bad it is a dark and stormy day.