The last lightning strike was four seconds away. Miranda looked up briefly at the rolling thunder and went back to her morning nap. A few hundred miles to the south, our Iowa friends are seeing more severe storms pepper the state. In our fourteen years living there, we sheltered in the basement twice.
I remember my mother calling whenever the Weather Channel reported a tornado touched down somewhere. “Are you safe?”
“Mom, it was a hundred miles west of us.”
As of this moment’s writing, no more near lightning strikes. Cat back to closed-eye slumber.
Catholic Sensibility 