what the thunder said

[faeriemaiden]

It's storming outside; I can hear the thunder rolling over the rooftops and the air even inside the boundaries of the house smells like rain--that funny heat-and-cool scent thunderstorms carry with them. I love summer thunderstorms, even when they knock the electricity out (that's sort of lovely, anyway, because we drag the candles out of their hiding places and sit and watch them flicker and it's a little bit like being in a world where there are no harsh electric lights and there's still a bit of magic alive in the corners, and the last time the electricity went out, I sat on my bed and watched a pair of candleflames dance on my dresser while the Cranberries chanted in an eerie monastaryish song in my ears and I had one of my wonder moments). I love the primal power and raw majesty of them, the clouds dark and flecked with lights and flashes, the thick warm air and cool sheets of rain. I hate to say 'sheets of rain', but that's exactly what it feels like, billowing sheets, the way sheets are when you are airing them out for the bed and the air whooshes around them.

There was a lightning flash just now. I think I will go out and stand on the porch and get rained on.

By the by -- Ian = teleporter? Somehow this is coming in a lot more clearly than anything has in a while. Lots of intruiging ideas in that direction, starting with how Tuesday manages to discover his powers in the first place. (I hate the word 'powers'. It sounds like a bad comic book, or a worse summer movie. Abilities? Cool Stuff He Can Do?)