In 2008 a thunderstorm became a tornado that dropped massive, hundred-year-old White Oak trees onto the house and cracked the ceiling above my bed. The foundation wall was compromised, we had to move for several months, and my memories of that night are in third person. I’ve always wanted to like thunderstorms (and I do) but the fact that one can become something so much worse without warning has kept me terrified of them for years.
Call me immature or whatever, but I’ve really enjoyed having Yasha as a character to relate storms to. It’s the first time in more than a decade that I can hear thunder rumble and think “this would make such a cool asmr for her” and drift off thinking of her and Beau snuggled in a blanket in a cave watching the storm roll over instead of doing a mental count of how many trees are in the area and where we would go if a tornado struck.
It’s thundering outside. My body’s shaking a little because them’s the breaks, but my mind is pretty okay with it. I just hope I can sleep well so I can write tomorrow.
