Storm

Well, this is kinda-sorta based on something that really happened. Except it didn't. The weather and place is real, from a few years ago, but I made everything else up. Basically it's what I wish I could be doing right now. But I'm not. So I had to make it up.

It's dark outside. Last time I glanced at the clock, it wasn't even 3:30, and it already looks as though dusk were falling. The clouds are thick, obscuring the sun, and mirroring my mood. It should start raining any minute now – I can see lightning flash over the water.

I open the glass door and step out onto the third-story balcony. A little over thirty feet below me, the water is churning angrily, beating on the sand. I rented this beach front house for the week, knowing the storm was in the forecast. The leftovers of a hurricane that gazed Florida has finally reached the shores of Delaware, and me. I find something strangely calming about the chaos. Perhaps it's because there is no pattern or consistency, so I feel no need to impose order.

It's not often I get a chance to do nothing. There's always something I need or want to do, and if not then I'd be thinking of something else I could do. It never stops or slows down. But here, I can stop doing. Stop thinking. Just stop. Pretend that there is no such thing as time passing by. No appointments, no deadlines, nothing except me and the ocean.

Leaning on the weathered wood railing, I distractedly sip the coffee I've been holding, trying to ward off the chill of the wind as it suddenly picks up. The air feels more like late Fall, not at all like I'm standing here in the middle of July. I look to either side of the house; all along the beach are summer homes, crowded together with hardly enough room to walk between. Each one that I can see seems deserted, closed up against the wind and rain. Silent. Ghostly. It's a stark contrast to the churning sea ahead of me. Wide open, with nothing but water for miles and miles, and yet full of energy and life. I hear the waves roar below me, and the sound of the raindrops as they begin to come down.

A few scattered drops at first, then suddenly it starts pouring down in sheets. I set the coffee cup down on the railing as I close my eyes and tilt my head back, feeling the water stream down over my eyelids, trail over my cheeks and down to my lips. I am soaked within seconds, but I ignore that. I stretch my arms out to either side, spreading my fingers. Enjoying the sensation of rain on my skin.

I'd probably look utterly crazy right about now, if someone would happen to glance out a window and look at me. Just standing in the rain, in a tank top and thin jeans.

I lean forward again and open my eyes. I can barely see the ocean through the rain. A lightning bolt suddenly tears across the sky, and a split second later the thunder comes. It's not a harsh crack, nor is it a soft rumble. I can feel it in my chest, a low, heavy rumble that seems to continue for longer than possible. As it fades away, it seems almost silent. The thunder was loud enough to drown out the waves and the rain, but I can slowly hear them again.

It's time to go back inside though – I'm not completely insane. I grab the coffee cup and turn to walk back toward the house. I open the door and quickly step inside. I grab the towel I had left just inside the door and wrap it around my shoulders. I stare out the window for a few more minutes, watching the rivulets of rain on the glass as a puddle forms at my feet. I feel better than I have in months.