Rain and wind outside. I'm settling into another alphabet of hurricanes, another winter. Who is it this time. Olive or Maximilian? Blowing themselves to nothing over the Atlantic or rattling windows, wanting to get in. An awkward roll call, someone at the back of the classroom, barely whispering their name out loud. Someone else shouting the room to shreds, the centre of attention. Impossible to know what damage will come of each. How many lives lost,  the floods of tears and water from what was once the smallest zephyr, a puff of wind, a tremble in the air.