May 18
A and B step into the parking lot, and it’s the warmest day of the year so far. Outside the grass is tall and almost too green. White flecks of dandelion bristles speckle the breeze.
In the car A keys the engine.
“It’s snowing,” they say in good humour with a grin. B turns away from A towards the window and crushes a near silent stifle, their arms shielding them in a protective, jerking gesture.
“hh-Npgxxt! nhh…” They sniffle. It’s surprisingly drawn out, the sound textured. B cringes and scowls.
“..That ain’t snow.” They murmur.
