On the bright side, we haven't had an earthquake lately . . .

You looked out the window and, not for the first time, thought about how wrong the weather forecast had been. You'd been watching the weather channel obsessively, but it was always the same. Partly cloudy, bit of sunshine, chance of asteroids. Or fire tornadoes. Or plague of locusts. The occasional hornet swarm always shook things up.

You sighed. Today it was partly cloudy, bit of sunshine, chance of zombies. Great. That was bound to clog up the subway system and you really didn’t feel like spending the money on an Uber. 

“It’s zombies today,” you told your roommate. He shrugged and slurped his coffee in a way that made you want to smack that stupid cup right out of his smug working from home face.

“Wear your sneakers. They’re probably slow,” he said. Sluuuurrrp.

You scowled and marched back to your room, ditching your cute ballet flats for a pair of sensible running shoes. They didn’t go with your outfit at all, but you’re late and you don’t have time to change.

Your roommate was right. The zombies were slow. You had to dodge a cunning one that stole a neighbor kid’s bike, but once you’d hopped the fence by the park and made a beeline for the subway stop, it was home free. You made it to work just as your first meeting started.

“Interesting weather today,” Kelsey said. Or was her name Kinsey. You never could remember. You didn’t really care. Kelsey or Kinsey had a perpetual smile on her face and the sort of high pitched giggle that made you want to pull your own eardrums out. You gave her a half smile and prayed one of the zombies would eat her face at lunch. 

“Ugg, sorry I’m late. Zombies again. Third time this week! I hate spring.” Your best work friend strolled in and dropped her bag on the floor. It was covered in some sort of goo. “Brains again! Ug!” she said, giving her bag a nudge with her toe. “I can’t wait until summer. At least the fire tornadoes can’t sneak up on you.”

At this Kelsey/Kinsey flashed a pink lipped smile and chirped. “Look on the bright side. We haven’t had an earthquake lately.” 

The zombies cleared up by the end of the day as you trudged home under partly cloudy skies with a bit of sunshine. Mr. Flores was outside mopping zombie goo off his walk. He waved cheerily and you waved back, significantly less cheerily. 

“Hey you!” Mr. Flores yelled. You grimaced and took off your headphones. 

“Yeah Mr. Flores?” you said, trying to be polite.

“You and that boy you live with better get those brains mopped up, else I’m callin’ the HOA. This was a decent neighborhood. Or it was until all you renters moved in. Can't care about something you don't own.” He muttered the last bit under his breath.

“Of course. Sorry. I was at work.” You plopped your headphones back in and stepped gingerly around a huge pile of muck and shouldered open your front door. Your roommate was meditating. Well, he said he was meditating. It looked more like napping but you were too tired to argue. You tell him to mop up the zombies.

“I did it last week,” he whined. 

“That’s the deal. You do zombies. I got locusts. You want me to mop zombies? Then we split the rent 40/60.” You kicked off your shoes and pulled a seltzer from the fridge.

“Fine.” Your roommate goes outside to clean up. You dump enough vodka in the seltzer to forget about your day and turn on the weather channel.

One of these days, you think. One day, we’re going to get normal weather again. Like when I was a kid. You took another drink, knowing that your wishful thinking was nothing more than a pipe dream from some imagined youth. You barely remembered the weather from before. The fire tornadoes started when you were barely in elementary school and it didn't take long for the locusts to follow.

“Remember snow and rain?” you asked when your roommate comes back inside smelling faintly of cut grass and entrails.

“Not again.” He rolled his eyes. You sighed savoring the blissful memory of a snowstorm. You made a snowman. It was cold and the wind bit your cheeks. You went ice skating and the only thing that fell from the sky was the gentle, soft snow. The world was clean and bright. No one watched the weather channel. Weather was boring.

“Remember snow?” you asked clumsily taking a final sip of your drink and letting out a rather unladylike belch.

“Oh boy, here we go. Memory lane.” Your roommate flopped in the chair and kicked off his shoes. “You have to quit with the vodka. It makes you nostalgic.” He cranked the volume up on the television.

“It was so soft,” you mumbled. "So pure."

“Shut up. I’m trying to hear this.” 

It was the weather forecast. The next ten days. Cloudy with a bit of sunshine. Zombies the next two days turning to poison frogs and hornet swarms over the weekend.

“Damn. I was gonna go camping with Joe,” your roommate said and pulled out his phone. You watched him with vague interest.

“Can’t go camping with hornet swarms,” you said took another drink only to find your glass empty. “Rain though. Remember rain? You can camp with rain. It’s not great, but you can do it.” Your dad told you stories about camping in the rain, how he hated it. You'd give up one of your limbs to go camping in the rain.

Your roommate shook his head and left the room. You could hear him arguing with his friend Joe about the merits of camping during a hornet swarm.

"Dude, we'll just sleep in the truck." Pause. "Dude, I got the good bug spray. We'll be fine."

You watch the rest of the newscast not because you are interested but because you are comfortable and the remote is too far away. You lie back, close your eyes, and try your best to remember the snow.