This Pillow Book entry is inspired by The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon, translated and edited by Ivan Morris. Sei Shōnagon was a courtesan in 10th century Japan who kept a diary of the goings-on at court and concealed it in her wooden pillow. She made lists under various categories of specific, often quirky things.
It is getting so dark. And fast. A tropical storm has rolled off the gulf. It has crossed Northern Mexico and is sending black, ominous clouds up into Texas. Three hundred miles from the coast and our town is awash in the grey of it.
Sometimes the rain pours down on scurrying cars. Sometimes the wind holds its breath. When it exhales again we watch the storm clouds move across the sky. Standing still, the huge masses rush by. Looking up, I am dizzy at the sense of motion.
A wild gust looses a dance of leaves. They encircle us in a leafy whirlwind. I reach out to touch them. Some the warm green of Summer. A few have turned orange, impatient for Fall. They settle at our feet atop the unearthly-hued grass.
I drink in the smell of it. The dark wall of clouds to the South lights up. A light show muted by grey curtains. I can hear the thunder growling in the distance, a deep throaty groan. A raindrop lands on my cheek, a wet kiss, a warning.
