"I don't want to leave the moon. No one wants to fight to the death here." -Mathias Svalina, from Destruction Myth

Misaligned

There was a tornado headed toward us, but we didn’t want that to spoil our walk. We hadn’t gone on a nice walk for days, and stress from work was building, and we wouldn’t have any free time for another week or two, and, by that time, the stress would probably kill us, so this walk was absolutely necessary. The hail was a bit annoying. It felt like we were being shot by bb gun pellets, all from above us, all hundreds of them. Our clothes were soaked from the rain, but it had been a hot day before, so we were pleased about that. I’m afraid that we’ll die in the tornado you yelled to me. Which tornado I yelled. You yelled something else, but I couldn’t hear it at that point, over the roar of the tornado. We were getting hit by bits of debris, and taking the smallest of steps became impossible. You gripped my hand as we were flung into the air. We held together and did a strange, violent dance in the wind. We sat at the bar and I bought you a drink. We bought bb guns and shot them at targets shaped like the tops of our heads. I was blinded by the wind, but I could hear you all the while, howling like wind does, and I could feel your hands throwing me around. Outside, I could hear birds. This walk did us good.