Irony

While the people of Louisiana, with which we share a border, scurry and scramble to protect themselves from Katrina's forceful arrival, I am sitting on my bed, with my laptop propped on two pillows, watching lightning arc across the night sky.

Earlier, I stepped outside to supervise the dogs pre-bed elimination break and rain fell in soft droplets that fell like soft kisses on my bare shoulders. I let the breeze caress my hair, and lifted my face, smiling into the flickering light turning the grey clouds briefly lavender.

My voice was laughing, while my head considered the irony.

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