#slowly building storm Well, here we are. We spent all our money getting here, and now I'm not really sure what we should do next. Any ideas? You know, "Fuck it. I can sit here and drink if I want to," sounds like defiance, but I'm not sure it really is. While the brushwork of a slowly building storm paints the windows with something like possible joy. And the children I believe are asleep upstairs, having believed before they let themselves drift off that I would close their windows if the rain starts coming in. And I will. If I'm still awake then. And the wife may be asleep now too. And she may be sad, may be bereft. And she may be laughing in her sleep. (2010)