April 8th, 2007: It Was A Dark and Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night. That’s how it always starts, isn’t it? Wind and rain lashed against the windows. Thunder boomed every few minutes lightning raced across the sky. Anyone with any sense was inside. But our subject today does not have sense. Nor is our scene of any particular importance. Our subject sits on a roof. Yes it is raining, yes they are wet. Soaking in fact. But it is a warm night. Our subject doesn’t even notice the puddle they’re sitting in. They do not notice the bright flashes of light against the sky. They do not notice the few cars that scurry by down below. They simply sit. Nothing more and nothing less. Why do they sit you may ask? Well, we can’t be sure, not really. Can we actually be sure about anything? Can anything be completely accepted as truth by every person? Does it need to be in order to exist? But let us return to our subject, sitting on a roof on a stormy night. Perhaps they sit here because it is somehow calm in the middle of a storm. Perhaps they sit here because they have nowhere to go. Perhaps they’ve achieved a level of peace and balance that most of us can’t, and makes physical discomfort trivial. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because our subject at hand is a flower pot.