How I wish for a storm. Wind gusting through the threes. Lightning striking silhouettes against the night. Rain, thrashing against the windows, pouring over the roof, sinking to earth. A storm that brings life and death. A storm that brings hope.
All I have is an overcast day following patchy fog. A humdrum afternoon stacked neatly on a boring morning.
Who wants to die quietly in their bed? They are fools. To face death and laugh is the thing of kings. Stupid kings with mental problems likely stemming from a poor education in the hands of the state but kings none the less.