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Massachusetts

The rain has peanut shells in it, and coffee grounds. The grounds are getting in his hair. He tries to claw them out and the sky throws the ends of onions after them.

He can’t see very far. The trash gives way to water, then more water. He puts one hand out to follow the wall and the wall’s gone.

More rain than oxygen, now. He hunches down and tries to shield his mouth, breathes salt fog, chokes, stumbles. Kate’s there. She tilts her head up to his head tilted down and he sucks greedily at the air in her mouth.

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