tinplatedhero

Saturday evening, rain fell from the sky in a swift and powerful, but brief torrent. I'd spent my day with two friends in great pain, helping them through a very difficult point in their lives. As much as their pain was terrible for them, it was almost as painful for me, watching them in the throes of emotional discord, knowing that all I could do was provide them with help along the road of walking separate paths, instead of the one they'd been walking hand-in-hand.

I spent the latter part of the evening--prior to the outbreak of the thunderstorm--in the company of other very good friends. Port wine and Madeira Rainwater were held in a large communal chalice and we all shared from it. I needed those moments to process my emotions past a point where I could smile, and place the pain of the day behind me.

Even deeper into the night, past thunderstorms, lightning crashes, and laughter was the resounding echo of the storm in the quiet confines of a two people wrapped in blankets, pillows, and the quiet tacking of rain outside of the windows.

Additionally, a few weeks ago, I spent an evening at a local goth night and the lovely Giselle took a picture of us together.