Ol' man John sits on his porch facing west as he does every night. The good thing about living on a hill is you get both sunsets and the sunrises. Has he alreadt seen his last sunrise.
He has learned over the years to watch them both as they were his last. "Life is too short", he thinks to himself. Watching his good friend Coler die at the hands of the mafia has made him more concerned about his own mortality. If a healthy hard working man like that can die, we all need to be careful.
There is a cold breeze coming in as dark clouds are starting to block the sun. Maybe he will not get to see a sunset after all. The night just might come early.
He goes in to get a jacket and arefill on his ice tea. "Glad I got that nasty coffee taste out of my mouth" he says to his cat. As normal the cat does not reply.
"Who will feed my cat when I am gone?", he wonders. He starts to call, but no one is answering. He feels the cold breeze of isolation as he gives up calling. Looks like the cat is his only friend.
While returning to the porch, he says "Too late to pack. I guess we ride the storm out.", to the cat, "Maybe help will come."
He looks at the awe and wonderment of the storm, not as peaceful as a sunset, but it is all he has.