The wind outside is near hurricane strength. Birds are being made to travel unnaturally fast. I can sense their fear. The tree outside claws my window like Freddy Krueger. I want something dramatic to happen. I am waiting for the tree to snap in half. There was a power cut the other day, but I was already in bed. This was sad because I love power cuts, they feel very Victorian and therefore romantic. Iíve decided that history has an air of romance to it. This being-in-bed seemed ironic too, since I chose to go to bed early that day.