Thunderstorms roll through. The hours pass with one storm on the tail of another. The apartment is quiet, filled with only the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Full of stillness, while the thunder cracks and the rain blurs the window view until night falls - lightening flashes through the sky and the bedroom light flickers. A tornado warning threatens to overtake the watch. I hold my breath when the freight trains pass until the horns blow or the rhythm of the rails emerges.
When I'm feeling brave, I turn off the lights and roll up the blind but update the weather channel twitter feed twice as often. I search videos of tornadoes and watch the funnel clouds spring suddenly from dark skies but calm air. Expected and unexpected simultaneously. Uncontrollable. They rip through towns and cities, but from a distance the eye doesn't see the structures crumble. It only observes the lights now dark. The video ends when the real work must begin.
I believe that the soul needs storm and fire and dizziness. But it's the tornadoes that I fear the most.
