Aaron Burch

I want the sky to open up and just empty itself on us, she said.
Thank God for the rain, help wash away the garbage and trash.
Taxi Driver, she said.
I loved that nothing got by her.
Not exactly, she said. That isn't how I would have put it.
I looked around us, horizontally, toward the sky. It did appear a shift had occurred. Clouds were pulling in, pushing out. Something was happening, changing. You didn't bring your umbrella, I said.
I know, she said. Right. If I had, there'd be no point in wanting downpour.
I looked at the sky, tried to will it open.