POSTURING (October 30, 2003)

It is yucky out there. The sound of heavy and steady rain is punctuated by occasional wails and sighs of wind. Like a petulant child, I have closed all the shutters on my house. Every single one of them. And they are solid, as solid as shutters get, letting in only a stray crack of gray light. “There,” I am posturing from within, “have it all to yourself!”