The Total Absence of Wind in a Narrow Brick Lightwell at Midnight

Dear Delyara, I stepped out onto the fire escape tonight to smoke a cigarette, standing in the narrow concrete lightwell between our block and the commercial laundry next door. The storm was howling across the rooftops above—I could hear the wires screaming and see the clouds racing past—but down here, inside this deep brick chimney, the air was completely, uncannily still. The smoke from my cigarette rose straight up in a perfect, unbroken white column. It’s an odd feeling, being so close to the chaos while remaining entirely untouched by the movement. It made me realize that safety isn't always about stopping the storm; sometimes it’s just about finding a narrow enough corner where the wind can’t find an angle to hit you.