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.

Now, at 4:47 PM, the sky had turned the color of a week-old bruise. The wind had teeth. And Leo was standing in the parking lot of a grocery store, shivering, holding a single bag of frozen peas—not for dinner, but for the egg-sized lump forming on his forehead.

Three dots appeared. Then: “Was anyone filming? Could be your big break.” 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.

He limped to his car. The key fob wouldn’t work—battery dead, because of course. He unlocked the door manually, sat in the driver’s seat, and just breathed for a minute. The frozen peas went on his head. His glasses fogged up. Leo stared at the screen

The April sun was a liar. It poured honey-gold light over the cracked sidewalk, made the new daffodils nod their heads like sleepy children, promised warmth. Leo fell for it every single time.

“You okay there, champ?” called a kid from a passing pickup truck. Now, at 4:47 PM, the sky had turned

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