It’s good dying weather. The cloud canopy can hide me from the harsh light of day. I’m not ready to face it yet. The cool breeze and gentle mist whisper “collapsssse” with a sardonic hiss. I fall to my back in the sea of dusk dewdrops. The dirt and decaying leaves embrace me as I exhale, wishing the million and one blades of grass would bleed me out already. A far off cry echoes around my head, and I begin to wonder if I’m the only one who heard.

The mist turns to a soft drizzle. Kamikaze droplets wash away my sins, absolving me, as they run alongside the tears on my cheek. Something shatters. I can’t tell if it’s tangible or internal, but it sounds like rusted sheet metal having a glass bowling ball dropped through it. I can feel it reverberating in my teeth as its pieces spread like buckshot.

It’s fully raining now. The wind is a switch, and I it’s disobedient child, red faced and ready for my licks. The blood tastes stale on my teeth. I almost don’t realize I’m gnawing on my lower lip, the sky has me too entranced. The diesel smoke clouds swirl around, as if stirred by swizzle sticks. They inch closer and closer to me, first caressing me as if to comfort me, then smothering me.

I can feel it now. Eternity being pushed down my throat as if it were the barrel of a shotgun. The downpour soaks me, it drowns my wails while the lightning switch cracks across me. The wind still speaks in hisses, but with a slightly more sinister “sssucumb” this time. I swallow hard and the far of cry picks up again. It becomes maddening, piercing my heart and drawing me in like a siren's call. Then it turns to laughter. Maybe it was laughter the whole time. I can’t take it, I’m slipping away and I just want it to stop. Why won’t it stop?

The phone rings. Its her. She speaks softly, saying she hopes we can still be friends. The phone slips from my hand as she hangs up. I notice how black everything is. The sky is black. The clouds are black. The mud has made me black as well. Or maybe it was her that did that.

But hey, at least it’s good dying weather.