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The Weather Forecast
He breezed in after a whirlwind tour of the local pubs.
Feeling muggy, he drifted up the stairs like a silent mist,
but was greeted with an isobar across the back of the head.
An icy stare froze him to the spot, followed by a maelstrom of words
that bounced off the walls, pounding him like giant hailstones.
Then fighting against a hurricane he slipped in a pool of hate
He glanced up to see her chest swelling, then with an avalanche
Of abuse she predicted a cold front coming in…
Copyright ©
David Williams
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