A winter storm catches me unprepared. I'm not sure why; I should have seen it coming. Blonde winds and Australian coldsnaps pave the week. A young woman passes by me on the streets and presses a piece of paper into my hands. She hurries away as I look down at a name and number, confused. I finally make it back to the fallout shelter and call from an antique landline. The number is disconnected. Outside, the clouds thicken. I study old books on meteorology to try and find some measure of mastery, and prepare myself to attack the rains again.
12:00 p.m. - 2018-01-22
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