It was a dark and stormy night, when I thought of this over used cliché to describe the weather. I tapped away at the wooden frame of my bed to make a more soothing beat to the pounding rain, booming thunder and the whipping of tree branches that promised to lash out at any living or non-living thing that dared go out on a night like this.
I'll be damned if it didn't sound like Camp Town Races.
I came to the conclusion that lying awake at who knows what time in the pitch black of early, early morning wasn't the best pass time, so I slowly sat up on my sorry excuse of a bed that's creaks were drowned by the roaring storm just outside. I swung my feet over the edge and let them hover just centimeters from the ground before settling down on the cold, packed down and stained carpet floor and the rest of my body gradually rising up to its full height. Stretching gingerly, I rotated my shoulders, curled my fingers, and bent my neck to one side, waiting to feel a sudden tension being rel