I couldnt think of a title...Tao doesnt like storms. ForewordIts dark. Its night, of course its dark. Its dark, save for the flashes of light from the sky that illuminate the room for fractions of seconds. Zi Tao doesnt like it when this happens. He likes it when the room stays dark at night, like its supposed to. He doesnt like pale blue light flooding the room for a second, creating shadows that play tricks before plunging Zi Tao back into the pitch. It is nights like these when he curls up under his blankets and hides as best he can from the unwanted light show.