SPRING
The sky had gone green again. That wasn’t right. It should be blue, or grey. Or black for night. Maybe pink and orange for a sunset, if one was feeling adventurous. But never green. That was a surefire way to know things were about to go straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. And sure enough, it did. Sudden, blustery downpours where the rain seemed to hit the ground like it had been fired from a water canon, and tree-toppling wind destroyed power lines. The sewers overflowed into the streets. It was again Tuesday.
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