thunderstorm

It rained last night. I remember that first thunderstorm when I was at my old place at Jurong (I stayed on the 15th floor), after moving from Clementi (I stayed on the 2nd). The wind scratched my windows, howling and howling until I freaked out and called a classmate. I never had that at Clementi, with the plants covering it. There hasn't been a thunderstorm for a while now, and just over the night there was a magnificent one. Now that I'm back at Clementi, on the 2nd floor, I'm constantly amazed at how much louder thunderstorms are over here. I swear I heard some thunder just next to my block (although my block's only 4 storeys tall). I used to love watching the rain outside, a little scared, a little awed. Here, my heart stops every time thunder strikes and when it recovers, it does a little flip. My cats go mad, dashing from one corner to another, freaked out by the noise, or just cower in a corner and jerk everytime the sound invades their peace. I love my place here, it's as cosy as I like it, but when there's rain (much less a thunderstorm), the electricity goes out. I feel like I'm in the 1970s and what's lacking is the need for me to put my pot (I've got only one) and pan (again, only one) under the leaking roof (which is, technically the 3rd floor). I wonder if the 4th floor gets it. Isn't God's nature a beautiful thing?