: “The day she married me, it rained sugar. The day she divorced me, it rained blood. The day I met your grandmother though, it didn’t rain at all,” the man said.
: She blinked away a raindrop. The clouds began to fall to pieces. “Tell me more about grandma.”
: “Shouldn’t we go inside first?”
: “No.” She kissed her nose to the sky. “I want to know what kind of day this is.”
{flash fiction ~ Tommy Tung}
{art ~ Arian Behzadi}
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