Gottaluvapril

Leo stared at the screen. Then at the sky, which had started spitting sleet. Then at his own pathetic reflection in the rearview mirror—forehead lump, runny nose from the cold, a smear of mud across his cheek.

He started the car. The heater wheezed but tried. He sat there for a long moment, frozen peas melting against his throbbing head, snow falling on daffodils, and he thought: Yeah. Gottaluvapril. gottaluvapril

He laughed. It hurt his face. He laughed harder. The sleet turned to actual snow—fat, wet flakes that melted on his windshield and made the world look like a shaken snow globe. April, everyone. Leo stared at the screen

He typed back: “Just ate pavement in a grocery store parking lot. Shopping cart came out of nowhere. It had a death wish.” He started the car