Within/without

'Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.' (Genesis 2:1)

There is a storm brewing outside. The wind whips majestic trees into an undignified frenzy. Below, pools of streetlight illuminate sheets of needle-sharp rain. And far away, the sky turns a menacing crimson, the dawn of Mars on the once-benign horizon. I watch, barefooted and comfortably warm, through the thick glass that separates me from the fury beyond. Yes, undeniably, there is a storm brewing outside.

There is a storm brewing inside. A thousand memories are bursting inside my head, desperately attempting to escape the slow burial they were subjected for so long. My heart swells with strange, unnamed emotions and my mouth tastes of the sharp, acidic cocktail of exotic fears. Darkness is slowly closing in from the corners of my eyes.
Nothing seems amiss as the train speeds past the tiny platforms and my fellow passsengers look anywhere-but-here in glazed broedom. It is a crisp, sunny, positively beautiful fall day. Yet, there is a storm brewing close to home.

'Then they gathered the kings together to the place that in Hebrew is called Armageddon. The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and out of the temple came a loud voice from the throne, saying, "It is done!" Then there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder and a severe earthquake. No earthquake like it has ever occurred since man has been on earth, so tremendous was the quake. The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations collapsed. God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath. Every island fled away and the mountains could not be found. From the sky huge hailstones of about a hundred pounds each fell upon men. And they cursed God on account of the plague of hail, because the plague was so terrible.' (Relevations 16:16-16:21)