A night when I was 20 years old. Summer in New Jersey, with all its wrenching humidity. Driving back from Philly on Rte. 130, in the pouring rain. Coming up to the off-ramp for Rte. 1, and a flash of lightning that split the sky into electrified green sections. The crack came, almost on top of me.

Driving on pure instinct, knowing I couldn’t control the car if anything were to happen, unable to see past the hood ornament. Standing in the parking lot of AT & T in a long green dress, welcoming the rain on my body, ratting my hair, smearing mascara. Jumping thru every puddle in the parking lot to meet J. and S.; just boys, frightened by the incredible power the storm transferred to me. Knowing they would never understand my female terribility.