I can only imagine the sound outside, every time I think the storm has arrived, it doubles in intensity. I am sleeping on the floor in the lower part of the bungalow, should I go up the step into the kitchen? Will the power hold?
And almost as suddenly as the force arrived, it is gone, and the gurgling of water draining away replaces even the soft sound of raindrops on the roof. There is still thunder, but by now it is somebody else's thunder, up in the hills or over the border. The cat meows plaintively, she weathered the storm outside and must be coaxed inside. L wakes up and says, "It's slightly damp out there." in an unmistakably Scottish accent. A car splashes past.
I am going back to sleep. In the ten minutes it took to type this, it is over.