I walked out onto my baclony from my bedroom. I gazed across the ocean below me at the lightning streaking the sky.

I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn’t turn around. He wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his chin on my shoulder.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked him dreamily.

“Mmm.” He answered, taking in the scent of my hair.

I had always been fascinated by lightning, ever since I was a little girl and my dad let me play in the rain.

“We should go inside before the rain reaches us.” He whispered in my ear.

“Just a little longer!” I pleaded. He laughed at my girlish whine. I didn’t move my eyes from the horizon as he kissed my neck. Giving up, he slid his arms from my waist and returned inside.

I stayed out there, watching strike after strick, long after he fell asleep. I waited until the rain came, pouring buckets down on me, to return to my warm dry house. Changing into dry cclothes, I joined my husband in bed for the night.