How many were you?

It had been coming all night. Its warnings were dim flashings and barely audible grumblings of far distant thunder. The approaching storm deserved a moment of my attention. I stuck my head out the back door of my building. All I could see were low indistinguishable clouds colored a yellow/orange by the city lights. The stars which always struggle for attention were complete annihilated. I went back inside and cut off disc one of the movie I had stolen that evening off the internet. Its choppy sounds and video interrupted by my desire to witness possible forbodings by the local weather men. This storm must truly be minor, I thought, not even the crass station of death is busting in with RADAR images of possible, however remote, destruction.

Because of my desire to witness the full CD after it had taken all day to download my approach to my bed was delayed. I was in a holding pattern on my couch as certain well-known characters from a popular series of book attempted to thwart evil in its many forms. Strangely, on my couch, with inferior sound and video this movie seemed less ass than when I saw it in the theater. As I download and view the rest I may revert back to my original impression since the major plot changes have yet to occur.

I was asleep well after 1 am last night this morning. I was drowsing but had not entered deep sleep when the storm arrived. It arrived without wind and severe thunder. Last night's storm was a gentle white noise that enveloped instead of shook. I always enjoy moments like that because I know I am not the only one that was been gently stirred by this harmless cow of storm as it lolls its way through our neighborhood. The natural world moving through as a reminder that our claim of dominance is temporary and there are other forces less malevolent but stonger and more destructive.