Sitting in my treehouse of a home, head filled with thoughts, listening to the wind blow. The building moves with every gust, creaking and groaning from the strain. The rain taps on the windows, sounding like pebbles tossed against the panes. A knocking at the door, constant and rattling, as the wind demands to be let in. Finding their way through every crack and crevice, drafts slip in, filling the room with the smell of the rain and broken tree limbs, flickering their way over candles to cast shadows never before seen. Temperatures dip as the storm continues on, wrapping around me like an odd sweater. Heavier rain washes away all the thoughts jumbled in my brain, focusing on the sounds of water pouring from the roof. Back and forth, the building sways, rocking me to sleep, finally seduced by the siren song of the storm.
***