THUNDERstorm

To my wife's delight, the sky has finally begun to darken, and the wind is kicking up. A blue tarp covering the fire escape of the building across the street billows and snaps, ballooning out like it's caught a favorable breeze and will shortly be sailing the red brick apartments out to sea.

I pause the show we're watching and Katie eagerly runs to the window to report behaviors in the face of the coming storm: couples huddling beneath too small New York umbrellas, a man with a baby carriage sprinting down the street in flip-flops to try to beat the deluge and his partners inevitable approbation at subjecting their infant to the rain.

All very entertaining, but still..., "Where's the thunder?" Katie asks, her voice tragic with disappointment.