Drinking In The Dark

Sipping cold beer, sitting in the dark. Looking out of the window. Wind howling. Doors slammed.

Now, the cool breeze blushed against my face, almost like an apology for the earlier onslaught.

An hour ago, the heat and humidity was unbearable. I was perspiring profusely as I vacuumed and mopped the house.

On the horizon, lightning illuminated the night sky.

The roads are empty. The silence of the night is only broken by occasional vehicles zipping past.

It’s a quiet Sunday night. Like how all Sunday nights should be.