Everything Raging, Everything Quiet

We drove straight into it—the storm thick and dark ahead of us, streaked blue, lit from inside by something that had no good intentions. There was no detour, no pulling over, just mountain roads going up and valley roads going down and the weather doing its worst on both sides. Then without warning we were through the worst of it, sitting inside the eye, and everything had gone still and pale and weirdly peaceful. Lorde in one ear, V V Brown in the other, Only Real somewhere underneath it all. Maybe we’d made it.