Sometimes I Wish This Sky Would Just Fall and Kill Us All

I met a man at the bank at about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. His lips parted as he silently whispered "Looks like rain." I looked to my left and saw a woman biting down on her lower lip. Somehow I thought of a tree on a tangerine Monday that I used to climb when I was eight. I remember my friend Matthew and how we spent our summers reading comic books and talking of girls who were so far of reach. Purity was never an issue you had to subscribe to, you only get the offer when you turn eighteen. I wear my tie like an old man's noose, my feet planted in the ground. Plenty of sunshine and my leaves will grow faster than I can keep up with. The person behind me was clenching her purse and whispered something in french. It's beauty like this that goes over my head. An angry glare told me I was next so I deposited my soul and walked away empty handed. I stepped outside and looked up: sure enough it rained.