And That's When You Walked In

AND THAT’S WHEN YOU WALKED IN
by Matthew Sanborn Smith

The clouds came rushing in at me, dark grey and angry. They meant to dampen my clothes and so they did. I felt so bad, I apologized. Not just for flipping them off and sleeping with their cloud wives but for everything I’d ever done to anyone. Thus began a litany of my sins presented orally all the day and half the night. By the time I had finished I raised my head to a clear and starry sky. Even the clouds had grown bored

I craved ketchup.