we don’t imagine we’ll drown. We feel every fat raindrop on our scalp as we hurry to class, to work, to the market. Our children jump in puddles, soaking the bottom of their pants. We hold the umbr…| Flash Frog
Oh. The leaves were teeth. Imogen stopped walking, the squeak of her sneakers against asphalt suddenly quiet. It must have rained the night before because the squirrel’s face, a rictus of death and…| Flash Frog
