Rain pelted the front windshield, reducing the other cars to greyish, amorphous blobs, adorned with star patterns of white and red. Latonda and Michael sat in silence. Their chosen event of roller coasters and amusements took place on a peninsula and the single road leading back to the mainland was packed with everyone else who took the hurricane warning just as seriously.

A powerline had fallen across the road, two car lengths up, trapping all drivers unfortunate enough to be on the wrong side of it. Latonda, a vegan of many years, stared out the passenger side window. She watched ironically as a transport truck filled with pigs emptied all its terror through the slats of the truck. For the last hour, excrement sloshed with 40mph rainy winds, painting the surrounding vehicles and the pavement. She considered they couldn’t have much left, but the squealing swine indicated more was coming.

She turned her head to Michael, who had been staring intently into the smeared future, squeezing the exclusive squish toy he desperately needed that caused their extra 10-minute delay leaving the park. He could feel her gaze upon the side of his neck trace down to focus on the anthropomorphized bacon in his hand. She watched its strangely emotional face pulse larger and smaller on a nervous rhythm before she finally spoke.

“This is all because you didn’t want to see Les Mis.”