It’s raining right now. More accurately, there’s a thunderstorm raging right outside my window.
I was only alerted to it by the faint whistling of wind between the cracks in my window panes — I panicked and dropped my 3DS and rushed to check if the windows of my room were closed properly (they were) as the rain greeted me like a splendid crash of cymbals.
I stared out the window for a few minutes as I realized I was witnessing the introductory tunes of a thunderstorm. A cartoon I watched as a kid said you could gauge the distance of the storm from your current location by measuring the interval between lightning and thunder. Light travels faster than sound, or something like that… I still don’t understand it, really.
One thousand, two thousand, three thousand… seven thousand, eight thousand. It’s pretty far away, I guess.
I thought I’d be able to catch a really crisp bolt of lightning, splitting the sky and scattering sparks of electricity everywhere as thunder rumbled in its wake. No such luck. My windows were murky and fogged up, the lightning was just a brief flash of light that lit up the sky ever so often. Pitch black became a murky gray. Not really anything remarkable.
One thousand, two thousand, three th– oh. Guess it’s close.
A part of me wanted to throw open the window. To see if I could really feel the electricity in the air like in that Stephen King novel* I got for my second anniversary gift. To let a gust of cold air whip through my room and splatter my bedsheets with rain. It crossed my mind again and again… like a bolt of lightning. Lighting up the recesses of my mind, fogged up like a window from muddled thoughts and stifled feelings.
One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand, five thousand, six thousand, seven thousand.
What’s that phrase people like to use — lightning never strikes the same place twice? The cacophony outside my window was beginning to subside and so were my thoughts of impulsive window-opening and storm-chasing.
One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand… fuck it, there’s no point in counting anymore.
Maybe I was just meant to be stuck inside this box. Seeing nothing but subdued lights in the sky and hearing nothing but ominous, approaching growls.
They still leave me in the end.
(*Revival by Stephen King. Great read. A little draggy in the middle.)