I imagine that the storm is coming. First I imagine it forming. I picture how it escapes its inhumation far out in the ocean. There is some point there where things come together in a way we do not yet understand. Where the griefs and uncharitable things have accumulated and where the winds and currents and heat all conspire to set air rising, turning. An eye opens, corrugated, a perfect round gape that vents into atheistic blankness.
Coming together, pieces in a puzzle, gathering force and vigour. Growing in a way that is even now unparsible. we cannot predict when it forms or where it will go or how it will come. Think of the labels: Category 1, Category 4. Their austerity. Clots of incautious colour growing in the eyes of satellites, budding and splitting, wandering and then fixing on a course.
The storm is not about anything. Never mind me. It’s just there. This is not about anything. Is anything about anything other than itself, I mean really?
It is coming. I imagine it coming. It is big. It brings its swell of water over the levees, pushes its way in. It is too small, it slips between the old barriers and the shaking places between the atoms. A vast soft collision with the shore. The streets have been drained of people. The storm is a tenant too big for its house. The house smells like the sea. I see the skies darken and the day shiver away. It peels open the dams and takes windows off their hinges, sends vehicles scuttling and skidding stiff-wheeled down streets, piles them like dead leaves against the sides of buildings. It cleaves roofs from the houses inside of which the screens have fallen silent and people have hidden and warnings have long since stopped flashing. It is tired of waiting. It wants rest.
It pulls down the walls and comes straight for me. I am its purpose: of course. I only have time to wonder why something so sure, so bold, so vicious with piety, so implacable, would go to all this trouble to find me. I am in my home, waiting. My skin is tight and my eyes have gone all white and I am flattered.