Lightning flashes towards the ground somewhere between my office window and The Gherkin…
Thunder makes this building vibrate.
The sky is dark, stormy, ominous.
Yet over there (gesticulates in the general direction of the Post Office Tower) is a blue sky with harmless-looking, white fluffy clouds that resemble a kind of pale candy-floss – the kind you’d get if you made candy-floss without adding the pink dye to the sugar?
There’s a large in-bound airliner slowly cruising north-east to south-west at about 1,800 feet.
But outside, on the ground, nothing moves.
Even the cars are taking temporary refuge from the battering rain.
No pedestrians venture out.
The light continues to fade, street lamps flicker in to life -Â activated by their light-sensitive devices.
Welcome to the end of the world.
Or July in London.
Brennig.