Smelling the Storm

Something's in the air, and it isn't rain.

Living in hurricane country, you learn to smell when a storm is coming. It's impossible to describe. A change in the pressure, the temperature, an almost imperceptible shift in the wind ... If you're a local, you know what it means.

Well, I smell a storm coming. And I'm not talking about the weather. Look up from your phone, sniff the air, and you'll smell it too. 

When the sky turns black, you can take cover, or you can try to get far enough away to be out of range of what's coming. Either way, if you haven't prepared in advance, it's too late now.

Right now, there's nowhere to run, and there's very little time left to prepare, because this is not a storm made by nature. It's a storm made by man. Or, more specifically, a small group of men who believe they know how the rest of us should live. Or not live, as the case may be.

With this kind of storm, there are only three choices. You can fight, go to ground, or be complicit. 

No matter what you choose, you might get blown away, so the question is this: when your grandchildren ask you what you did during the great storm, what will you tell them?