2001-09-24 || 7:37 p.m.

|| stormy ||

i am sitting in the dark. the most spectacular show is going on dangerously close to my open window: lightning bolts not at all boltlike. loops and curls and letters of the alphabet, spelling out sentences in language electric. punctuated with thunder claps to metallic hoods of cars and mail boxes.

(the last time this sort of thing happened you were here. lights out, windows flung open, camped out on my bed like a fort made of couch cushions. we are drinking hot tea cooled on window sills and eating adult brownies. we stop talking to listen to the reverberation of hills and water towers. light poles. traffic signals, altered.)

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