I was writing in my bedroom, in my pyjamas if you must know, and yes, it was mid-afternoon but that’s the way I roll. Anyway, I wasn’t really paying too much attention to the world outside my window, UNTIL a major slew of hailstones threatened to break the glass. Seriously… I was tap tap tapping away at my new, very dark, slightly morbid (yet deeply emotional – ahem) story, when the world of Harrow seemed to match the one in my head.
There was the hail, then the blustering wind, howling with the ferocity of a pack of rabid bloodhounds. Cold, dark, grey, then black… so black I had to put the bloody light on. Then, quick as it had started, it ended. The sun came out, shining like nothing had happened.
Weird, I thought. Then I forgot about it.
Then I saw the news.
I do love the BBC article about it:
“Suspected ‘tornado’ destroys garage in Harrow”
It’s like… we can’t actually prove it was “tornado” so we’re not going to accuse him in case it wasn’t him.
So what do we actually know?