Not as if we weren't warned. Clouds dancing all day like a cat on a hot tin roof. Then of course at night, where everything seems secret but that's an illusion. Storms on radar bleeding out from the west. Siren song of a tornado warning. Duck and and cover. Through the the skylight, lightning flashes to deep applause. Then the curtain falls and the house lights go out -- everything goes out and it's a black and white world, the night and the lightning, the silence and the thunder. All we can do is wait for the denouement but there's no sudden resolution; the drama fades away, the ending loses its power, just like us. We await illumination.
Before, during and