That dark afternoon, it honestly felt like the world was going to end. Multiple thunder storms and tornadoes had touched down all around Oak Park. People locked their storm doors and windows to keep them from being blown open. He could see lightening stinking all around the building, every few minutes. The frame of the flat groaned. But he couldn't take himself away from the window, holding up the sash, seeing the wind blow things down the street -- of cars hurrying, their headlamps weak and indifferent. He would take a break, and lay down, then get back up and look out the windows more. Then it passed. Beneath masses of moving ragged clouds, the sun was low in the sky.
It was still steamy and warm. He walked into the backyard, the garden was huge and green. He saw hundreds of fireflies. A bit drunk, he almost saw them with the astonishment of a child. The wonder faded with the calculations of getting to a bar. Subtle, looming guilt.
Oak Park IL