Leveled.

My heart fell back against my spine, its blood running with the wolves of my regret.

It started to rain. I walked up Hawthorne with no jacket. It was getting windy and frozen out there. I looked up. The clouds were moving in. I watched the sky bleed its grey blood. The clouds were grinning. They had no tolerance for life. They simply bled where they told themselves to. I reached up and felt my hair and my face, the lines about the sockets. My bones were back there, blocks away in her store and I was powerless, stuck in Portland with no coat, no money, no love. A horn honked and I jumped in.