I wake late in the night.
I have been stabbed awake by a close, too-bright lightning strike. Thunder rattles through my room and shivers
through my bed. Rain patters at the roof
and tings down along the gutters.
After my eyes adjust a little, I witness the occasional pulsing of
lightning strikes deep within the Big Belt Mountains outside the north window
of my bedroom.
A certain clarity of thought exists when you come awake to such
drama.
A singular focus, if you will.
And what is my centering thought in this profound moment of
clarity?
I realize I need to purchase toilet paper when I go to the store
tomorrow.
—Mitchell Hegman
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