The weather is perfect. Usually, Asher doesn’t care about the weather. He never brings it up, and never complains. Being too cold or too hot is for other people; Asher compensates.
Today, though, you can reach up and touch the clouds. The buildings are swimming in them. Black, purple, grey, and furious, rolling in like foot soldiers of the storm. Asher loves it. He must go out. Even if it’s a tornado, he has to go out. He’s leaving… now.