It is morning. We had a wind-and-rain storm last night. We’d closed all the windows except a couple in the bedroom before we went to bed, and at exactly 2:22 a.m. there was a shriek of wind, a crash, and pounding rain. We both jumped up and shut the windows, but it was too late: Frank woke up.
A section of the Carters’ fence blew over.
I hate storms like that. Actually, I hate being startled out of my sleep for any reason.