You gather the candles close, opening books and pushing the radio aside. Through the open back door comes the sound of a nearby guitar. It's the only sound. You hear the squeaking of fingers on strings. As the sky grows darker, you see the stars, a full sky of them, and you begin to feel like you're in the country, all alone. After a while, you notice the guitar music has stopped. In the distance, thunder growls. And then you listen to the rain you can't see.