Little Talks Part 2: If This Is a Rom-Com

The second in a series of short stories about a relationship starring a fictional couple who live rent-free in Scott’s head.

I know it’s going to rain.

Sure, I’ve seen the forecast.

But I also feel it in my bones — something you think is mostly unbelievable or an old wive’s tale until you have the kind of injury that makes you ache when there’s a shift in barometric pressure or whatever. Sometimes when something actually happens to you you have no choice but to start believing in it. It just becomes a connective tissue with the others out there who have and do experience it. You see a stranger in a restaurant, for example, flexing their leg and wincing as the clouds are starting to roll in and you may share a knowing nod, almost mouthing, “Ah, yes, sciatica,” as they preemptively unsheathe an umbrella when they laboriously get up to leave.

But she thinks the hard stuff isn’t going to come down for a while and we should keep moving forth with our plans for the day. Doesn’t trust my assertions that are based solely on dull, annoying pains in my right ankle and lower back. (I’m solidifying my position as a man in his 30s who’s going on, like, 80 or so. An aging broken body to go along with my old soul. The puzzle…