After After Wisps of white fog, like ghosts of what I knew, quiver over empty fields. The storm has run its course, but it never seems over until long after that.
Fallen rain swishes into the sewers, forgotten.
Worms wriggle in the streets, lives lost to the dank pavement. I pick one up in my fingers and carry him to safe grass. Countless others squirm in silence as clouds part to reveal the single, bright star in a grey, featureless sky. The diamond that is the sun pierces weakly through the thick blanket. Small sounds of life rush to regain balance.