Storm Clouds Over the State of Louisiana
by SUSANNAH BRESLIN
They were sitting on the back porch. She had moved into this place the day before. He had a glass of wine in his hand. The weeds were overgrown. He was supposed to have moved in here, but he hadn’t. She was alone. Too bad, she thought. She wasn’t sure she meant it. She was tired of doing the laundry. She was sick of being nice. Her wine glass fell over in the grass. When she saw that, the pool of it sinking into the dirt, she laughed.