Skin pulled taut over your stomach like the canvas of a drum, breasts transformed completely in anticipation of the production of milk, belly button losing all sense of indentedness. Dark clouds from the edge of a rain system that never quite lets loose. Better to singe than singed against. Exactly what you would expect from a small atomic bomb. The whole city smells charred.
First rain brings the ants indoors, spots on the bathtub porcelain.
The train in the rain pulls loudly through the night. Somewhere someone is attempting to start their car but the engine won't turn over. Dear flash floods, don't. Driving around with somebody who, after 20 years in this town, still doesn't know the major streets. I wake with every muscle in my lower back stiffened, spine and ribs pulled so tight it hurts to breathe.