He looked out the window and saw the distant shape of a mountain. It was dark and gray; rain was falling all around. He closed his eyes and pictured himself looking at his house from on top of the mountain. He laughed to himself and shuffled away from the view. The television stumbled to life and he melted into the couch.

The rain had settled into a comfortable groove. The staccato pitter patter pelted the roof of his abode, occasionally knocking a tipping tap upon his windows. He started to drift asleep when the winds roared to life.

A tree branch angrily swatted at a window in his living room. He jumped at the noise at first, but soon became accustomed to the interruption, if not slightly annoyed. He was still watching television, or at least trying to. It can be difficult to focus on the important things in life when nature decides it wants to play.

He turned the television off. He put on a pair of shoes and threw on a hat. He grabbed his keys and left his home. His television cooled and became a distant memory.