Three Months Later:

I awoke to the soft sounds of rain pattering against the window. It was a gentle thing at first but soon a new tempo was added when sleet joined the rain and a hard staccato was struck up by the growing storm. The wind began to grow in strength and as it did so I could hear the fluttering of the leaves on a nearby tree as well as the deep groaning of the ancient limbs moving. They were resentful for being disturbed so and creaked with their old age the same way a man might complain about his bad knee.

I lie there listening to the...