When I look back on us, I can still feel the storm coming. Today, the shutters slam, the coffee house shudders, the dishes clatter.

You check your watch, somewhere between indifferent and avoidant. “I should go.”

The rainwater creeps in, pools around our feet. We never talk about your wife.

Christine writes a lot about big feelings and nature. Contrary to popular belief, she is a Pacific Northwest girl, through and through.