The end of the roll, so I turned out gold. With a big beak. I went to the Bistro on the Lake yesterday afternoon, summer readings at 1:30 PM. Fullerton and the lakefront. Where my folks used to hang out in the 1940s. I was just getting off the Red Line and walking down the stairs to ground level; there were three booms of thunder low enough to make the steel railings vibrate. By the time I was on the street, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Right before you get to the beach, its about a mile walk, there's an overhead walkway. Or street, for all I know. But, bammo. All I saw was darkness, speeding away eastward. The photos can't do it justice, but I think you'll get the idea. I later found out that the storm went on to hit Hammond, Indiana quite hard, tearing up city blocks.
2 comments:
Love how those posts recede into the distance.
Ah, summer. Days of sweet warmth and vicious storms that break houses and squash flesh like toothpaste out of pressed plastic.
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