On the tv, they're saying that we've fired cruise missiles over Baghdad.
Lightning and thunder in a dark sky.
Lightning is flashing…
Lightning is flashing outside my window, the beginnings of a thunderstorm. I opened the window to take in deep breaths of the thick, wet air. This is the kind of weather I love best, the kind I remember from college in Hyde Park, the apartment at 53rd and Blackstone, where I would leave my bedroom, drag Kevin into his, and have sex for hours, with the rain pounding down and the doors thrown open wide.