All I wanted was to
see a lighting bolt. The flashes were coming and going and
the thunder, particularly
impressive considering the mid-grey of the sky, shook the balcony after each
time the sky was lit.
I stood looking
down on all the little people scurrying back to their homes after being caught
out. Always unprepared. And when they weren’t – rather than bask in it - they
still retreated from the reality of it all.
I leaned my stomach
on the railing and strained my eyes out and over the taller buildings to the right
of my own. The clouds were darkest there and I hoped to get at least one quick
shot of electricity bang its way down to earth.
Another flash from
within the cloud cover, but no bolt. Damn… The rain was sideways now. I pulled
my head back in, soaking wet and warm and alive.
The Chinese family
in the garden below had pulled their two screaming kids from the garden moments
earlier. The dog across the way that you could hear 24/7 was silent, nowhere to
be seen.
It was too much to
ask that’s where the next strike would hit. Still, I crossed my fingers for one
last yelp and the smell of burnt hair. The rain became ocean rain and suddenly I
realised its constant sound was covering everything else.
The scraping of cutlery on plates.
The shake of downstair’s washing machine. All the voices – even those I love
and will always want to hear. Buses, sirens, the children and the dogs and
music of the stupid. All gone, though I knew, only momentarily. All the little
things fell away and for a moment I was sane.
I knew that one by
one, these things would return, and mockingly slowly at that
That is not your normal – they’d say
This, is your normal
With my heartbeat
and my fingers typing, the only sounds
left with which to defend against them.