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The wind howls outside as i write this. and i mean <i>howl</i>.
it’s loud, furious, and unrelenting. it shrieks through the one-inch gap left in the kitchen window. the calender on the wall goes crazy. things topple. the clock on the wall swings back and forth, in time with the seconds. all this despite the fact that the windows in the hall are shut tight, effectively creating a pocket of high pressure in the flat. i dread to imagine the resulting chaos should i be brave enough to unlatch a pane or two.

i close the kitchen window completely, and the howling grows much louder, screaming through the external architecture, vibrating the glass with its awesome fury. i’ve not witnessed winds this strong since the monsoon season 2 years ago.

there is a soft sound of metal against wood, and i find the front door straining in its frame, holding up against the force of the gale wrecking havoc in the lift lobby outside. a part of it finds the tiny allowance under the door, and the doormat shoots back a good couple of feet into the house.

then, as suddenly as it all began, all is quiet.

in other news:

i just woke from the most beautiful dream i have ever had. i’m pretty sure it is. in it, i wasn’t rich, nor famous, but i was really really happy. the colossal disappointment of waking is probably why the desperate go insane.

Gary @ 30 Mar 2003 :: Old Deadjournal posts :: No Comments »