She spent more than an hour in the window, working silently, determined, clicking the camera over and over. Something about her was mesmerizing. I watched her from the bed and wrote a song in my head about how she lit up every time the lightning struck, and when she climbed in beside me she was wriggling under my skin as much as the covers. Chloe became the lightning then, for me at least, lighting up every room. And so began the storm in my head. - Noah
-Becky Wicks
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