by Jeffrey Hermann

I’m walking home in the rain when the rain turns to snow. It floats down and turns to rain again on the ground. I’m a man who uses technology all day long and thinks he’s gotten smarter. It’s sweet we think we’re clever. We live on a simple planet. I reach through the fence to scratch a cow on the neck. They all come running. I could die right there. There’s a new thing they’re using to predict atmospheric whatnot but it’s still going to be nice or not nice. I check the radar and my wife is on a road close to home. Our children shift inside the gray block that represents our house. I arrive at the same time as our Thai food. Turns out it comes with spring rolls and we didn’t expect that. Happiness is partly luck. Our dog is watching what’s happening out the window. Snow again. I hope so badly to see everyone in the morning I don’t say it out loud. 

Jeffrey Hermann’s work has received Pushcart and Best of the Net nominations (damn) and has been included in the Best Microfiction series (nice). His first full-length collection of prose poetry and microfiction will be published by Unsolicited Press in 2027. He lives in Michigan, surrounded by lakes.