Accept My Comforting Remarks
Television sets are an anathema in this case. I am tempted to close my eyes. I wish I had my senses anesthetized and that all my capacities to recall were shut out. I think it's a real curse that is inflicted on us that we the people of the global countries have to be pulverized by seasonal terrors.
My heartbeats are on a rapid rise whenever weather forecasters' hands are making a glib gesture of plunging southward to the grayish white whirl of clouds which must be heralding the onrush of storms. Raw nerves are on a stampede as weather reports issue every route of advancing storms.
In time they come at last. Oh, what a force. They make a surreal metamorphosis of everything. Trees are uprooted, cars are upturned and streets are flooded. I see a man on the spot is holding onto a wall, reporting the scene.
I feel the need to send my comforting remarks to those terrorized by hurricanes and typhoons and seek a pardon for my cozy place. I hope that soaked clothing of yours will be dried soon and soiled rooms will be cleaned, furnished and renovated to the original condition. I sincerely hope that electric lights will light your places again.
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