Queensland storms are bad enough on the ground.
But up this high?
BOOM!
Lightning forks in the reflection of the tower across from us.
This time there’s no warning.
The lights cut out.
The fridge goes silent.
I reach inside the freezer and hand him an ice cube.
The chill in his palm seems to help ground him a little.
But every time another gust of wind hits, the windows curve inward.
He starts pacing again.
I walk beside him, not quite sure what to say.
Sometimes it’s better to say nothing.
To simply be there.
So I take him by the hand.
“We could go down to the lobby?”
He shakes his head.
Claustrophobic stairwells might be worse.
“Then come with me to the bathroom, my love. There are no windows.”
Gripping my arm, he’s as quiet as a mouse.
“And if we close this door we can't see what’s happening outside.”
A fierce thud ricochets between the buildings.
I cover the tiles with every towel from the shelf, a futile attempt to dull the acoustics.
It’s hitting us from all sides.
Create a diversion,I decide.
“Shower with me?”
“Okay,” he whispers.
???
Adjusting the hose, I let the water flow.
Marco tries to slow his breathing, peeling off his robe.
