The rain fell in torrents, interrupted by moments of quiet stillness in this dark of night, to reawaken with thunder and lightning, only to wane again before the hour was out. He lay awake, restless, but comforted by the symphony, noticing there was little to no wind as the storm played on. The heavy wooden thud of the large drops collecting then falling from the eaves onto the beam overhead, the musical splash of drops running down the roofline, falling into collecting puddles in the grass outside his window, the hard cacophony of drops striking the glass, the sudden and acute illumination of lightning. It all brought him some peace. He could hear the cat scurrying about, playful, mindless of the storm, and he called out to her. Like cats do, she ignored him, and continued her quest, which annoyed him for a moment, as he thought he should have gotten a dog which might have sought solace in his embrace, or at least would nuzzle and comfort him. But he had a cat, so he smiled, admiring her independence and returned his thoughts to the storm.
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