By Fiona H. Evans
Clouds black as ink stain the sky. Thunder roars and lightning cracks. Hairs rise on the back of your neck as the rain washes away your tears. You raise your umbrella and lean into the wind, hand to empty womb, but find no shelter from the storm of your grief.
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Fiona H Evans is a recently retired mathematician and emerging writer. She lives on Noongar Boodja in Western Australia, in a cottage near a river where dolphins swim. You can read more of her writing at fionahevans.com.