Waiting for the stormI was standing on my balcony on the third floor of my workshop, watching over the darkening city. The trees, almost entirely leavless now, were shivering harshly because of the accelerating wind. The sky was gray… but never dull. It was filled with different shades of gray, creating contrasts and patterns that left me shivering in thrills of beauty. The air was filled with anticipacion… it felt like almost a sexual tension, rising slowly, but powerfully. I had been fed up with waiting for something to happen. It had been the most beautiful autumn I had lived to see, yet something still was missing. And that something was finally aWaiting for the storm
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