It’s a little before 8PM with an occasional flash and rumble. I was doing visits and listening to the radio all day. NPR was saying in their measured tones that we might just want to kiss our roofs goodbye. So far on the East Side it’s a solid but ordinary thunderstorm, and the air is still heavy and humid.

My husband wanted some cake, so I used the weather as an excuse to go to Whole Foods (motto: Resistance is Futile).

“The world is ending,” a man said to me as I walked into the store.

“Well, my mother thinks so,” I said, “but I’m not ready to go yet.” He smiled.

I bought some chocolate mousse and ice cream and some cherries on sale to cancel out the calories. I went to the express line, but the clerk was trying to unravel a tangle of register tape.

“I’m not being very ‘express’,” she apologized.
“I’m not in a hurry.” I said. For once, I thought.

The rain was still warm and gentle when I walked out. I saw a bald-headed person standing in the fire lane. Chemo?, I wondered. No, more like shaved with a cheap disposable. I checked the person out from the front. Brown baggy jacket and pants, a black shoulder bag.

“Are you a monk?” I asked.
“Yes.” a woman’s voice answered.
“A nun. Where are you from?”
“The West Coast, but lately I’ve been in British Columbia.”
“Well, enjoy your stay in Rhode Island. It’s the center of the universe.” I said with justifiable local pride.
“As is everywhere.” she replied.
Wow. I just got Zenned.

On the way back I saw Channel 10 cruising the back streets. Looking for a downed tree or forked lightning to film, I thought.

And one block further on Forest Street there were yellow flashing lights and a downed tree.

More light than sound so far, but there must be some serious wind tunnels, I’m glad I’m home.

End of the world in the center of the universe. As is everywhere.
I’ll have to think about that.