Then, suddenly, a bolt of lightning sliced through the sky outside the window, followed by deafening thunder that rolled in.
Howard Coleman sat on the sofa, glancing out the window. The weather had been fine when he came home, but had changed abruptly, with large raindrops pelting against the glass, pattering away.
Howard's hand, holding his phone, rested on the sofa. Leaning against the sofa, he closed his eyes.
The room was very quiet, with only the sound of thunder, wind, and rain from outside continuously entering his ears.
Yet Howard realized he had no true desire to speak with Anita Madris, no sense of panic.
