Storm Calling

Sometime in the night between Saturday and Sunday John could be found out under the open sky. He would look up into the darkness, unmoving, rain plastering his clothes to his skin, the dim light only ever broken by the flash of lightning. He was completely silent, face blank, the noise of rainfall only punctuated by thunder. There he stood, seeming to have completely lost himself in the storm.

After the sort-of-moot, as the storm brews, John can be found sitting outside, staring up at the sky.