by Will Brooks
Russel sat watching the green, yellow, and red swirl on the TV screen, reminding him of the tie-dye T-shirts his brother had worn while going through his hippie stage. The weather man kept calling the storm Katie. He hated that name about as much as he hated rain. Katie had been his third girlfriend’s name and had broken his heart when, at the seventh grade dance, she’d dropped him like a hot rock when asked to dance by Clyde Silvey. He stood there with the other wallflowers as Katie and Clyde danced. Clyde knocked Katie up senior year, and after two more kids, they divorced. Russel still hated them both and their names.