Storm

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Thunder today.

I sit outside, listening, while my spaghetti cooks. Waiting for the rain. The riotous birds are silenced at each outburst of the clouds, then start up again in full concert. I go back to cooking, catch a few flashes out of the corner of my eye, then come outside again.

A woman across the courtard and a floor up pokes an inquisitive nose out, assesses the sky, and yanks a sweater from her line. The cover of her balcony twitches shut behind her, a gesture of annoyance.

As for me, I couldn't be happier when the rain comes drumming in. I hang over the edge, turn my face up. I'm sure its full of poison but I can pretend its pure. Its a real downpour, the first one I've seen for a while, even if it only lasts ten minutes. Its always a mist or a drizzle here, or mugginess and brooding skies with no relief.

A blinding flash, and this time I count. Six seconds to the horrific roar. I go back inside to my spaghetti, leaving the balcony doors open to the thunder, drumming rain and irrepressible bird chatter.

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