Sundaysea

The explosion shatters the windows. That's all that registers, for half a moment – the stained glass windows Lucy had wanted so much cracked and split, and, after a slight hesitation, rain down from their frames like rain. Sharp, glittering raindrops. He pauses – a moment's denial, a catch in the throat – and he rushes from the doorway, searching the faces littering the street. Shocked, astonished faces, turned white and fearful towards the smoke gathering in the darkened street… He sees the bodies, propelled by the force of the explosion, in crumpled piles by the sidewalk. People are running now. Screaming. The danger i

You've never seen so much rain in your life, and even if you did expect it, it surprises you all the same. It sloshes down, this rain. It's nothing like what you're used to; there are none of the wild storms you know, the kind that blazes past, all flashes of blue and purple lightning, clouds tumbling over each other in shades of green and grey. The rain here was slower, lazier, and the clouds hung grey and heavy over the world, a blanket that froze everything it touched, leaving long, frigid puddles in its wake. You sort of hate it. (You sort of love it.) From a distance, that is. You love to sit in your corner of the coffee shop, where