Senses

The storm that has been threatening all day starts to rage outside just after the sun goes down.

Photo by Ayu Shakya on Pexels.com

The rain starts softly at first, hitting the roof and bouncing off the skylights. Then it comes down harder, drum beats above our heads.

The lightning flashes through the open blinds, almost blinding. We’ve turned out the lights to watch the show put on by nature. With each bolt, I can see your face clearly.

The smell of rain in the desert starts coming through the vents. It is unlike rain anywhere else that we’ve been. Wet dirt and creosote smells mix with the rain and flood the room.

You pull me closer, knowing that I have a love/hate relationship with storms. They are beautiful but the lightning scares me when it gets too close.

Finally, as the storm takes over the outside, I kiss you and I taste you on your lips. And the storm begins to rage inside.

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