Vital Information
by Angela Townsend

There are people who love to tell you the bad news. Forty-nine percent of them work for the weather service. They steeple their fingers in an underground lair. Rivulets of drool race down their chins at the first clap of thunder. If they see a cloud the size of a man’s hand, they inform you that tornadoes will leap out of the dark and grab you by the rump. The eschaton is imminent.