Electric

I was woken up in the early hours by the most spectacular electric storm. The sky was wildly flashing several different colours and lighting up my room in the manner of the Coven on a Friday night (though less sweaty). I was impelled from bed to gaze out of the window, and did try to take snaps, but lightning is not very easy to photograph so you will have to take my word for how beautiful it was. There was no point trying to sleep anyway, as the thunder sounded like someone driving a four-horse team around in a large tin drum. I do love the sound of battering rain on the windowpanes.
There was a storm of a similar nature yesterday at about the same time, which at first evoked a strange sense of deja vu, and then made me wonder whether this is a message from on high that I should be getting out of bed at 5am and not 8. If so, I am more than equal to it: the interruption meant I overslept by hours, and made the journey to lessons at a cracking sprint while deftly pinning my hair up. Today I am a far less captiviating sight than the storm.