Rolling

Rolling thunder from a starry sky, and lightning now. Perhaps I will be struck and make a quick end. Earlier I was thinking of the years when there were many cats here, and I would see them emerging from the darkness, home from their hunts, eyes glinting. It was better then. Lightning is good, but I want no fires. I'm in no condition for fleeing. A quick, clean kill.

( Sunday Verse )

Later

This morning, the lightning storm lasted for hours, but there was no rain. I slept through most of it, but remember waking more than once to hear the slow rumble that shook the air. The sky was strange, with different seasons in various directions. By the time I woke, it had all gone back to summer though.

The camellia bush is overgrown and full of cobwebs. The webs catch the afternoon light. As I look at them, I feel them wrapping around my brain. Once I'm entombed, the spider will come and inject something to soothe me and turn me to mush. Then everything will be fine.