I
think that the
world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just
cats and
rain, rain and cats, very nice, good
night.

Cats tell me without effort all that there is to know.

when I am feeling
low
all i have to do is
watch my cats
and my
courage
returns

He turned to look just in time to see the rain start falling out as if the storm had finally decided to weep with shame for what it had done to them.

He walks the soft grass, wet with fresh rain, jeans slung low on his hips and shirt hanging open, still dripping from the fevered maelstrom that set fire to the night sky. Fury in his step and passion furrowing his brow...He is my perfect storm...

A cold wind raced across the surrounding fields of wild grass, turning the land into a heaving dark-green ocean. It sighed up through the branches of cherry trees and rattled the thick leaves. Sometimes a cherry would break loose, tumble in the gale, fall and split, filling the night with its fragrance. The air was iron and loam and growth.

He walked and tried to pull these things into his lungs, the silence and coolness of them.

But someone was screaming, deep inside him. Someone was talking. ("Hunger")