Saturday, 8am, and its raining outside our apartment window. Brianna is scraping the last bits of yogurt out of her cup with one of our mismatched spoons. We haven't turned any of the lights on so its a peaceful dark in our small living room, a small grayed light is coming in through the wet window. I can smell the grass greening. A few flashes of light and mumbles of thunder hint at the summer storms to come.
A saturday thunderstorm.
Bright streak of light just steared itself into my retna - crack, rumble, crack. My right eye is blurred with a vertical line color. The pit-pat of rain against the wooden building smells like the Tahoon Rainforest in Tasmania: organic wet. Another rumble. Water tapping the leaves. Its getting louder.
Another flash and boom. I hope it keeps raining.