Another long and depressing day.
I was about to go to bed.
I was undressed, I drank a glass of water, phone plugged in, charging.
It's not when your home is quiet that you can hear everything that's going on around you, it's when you are.
I was about to go to bed, and I really became aware of how much lightning and thunder there was outside my window. So I put on a pair of shorts, grabbed my camera, and went out on the fire escape to see just how much rain was coming down.
A fair bit, actually. I stood at the rail and felt cold rain against my skin. I thought about how pretty much any other person would feel cold, but I wasn't. I noticed the yellow-orange tint of the sky, the black silhouette of the trees, the blue neon light shining from the window across the back lane. The mist as the rain bounced off the pavement in the parking lot the next street over.
It's raining so much harder right now. Pouring.

 Nights like this are made for sitting down on the steps, just outside the rain, and having a couple of cigarettes. The smell of rain is so strongly associated with having that one last smoke before going to bed. It was always the sweetest smoke of the day.