First a passing car splashed me from behind, soaking the backs of my legs with freezing cold snowmelt and rain. Then a second car splashed me from the front, just in case. The third car I heard coming, and saw its front wheel hit the puddle and fan water into the air in time to close my eyes before the wave drummed my head and rolled down my collar. But when I got to the intersection in front of my house only to find it flooded, meaning I’d have to wade through, I shook my fist at the sky because that’s just too many metaphors all in a row.

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