Ah, yes. Cliches

It rained all weekend. And it did all the things it always does. All weekend.

Things were wiped out. The Huskers as we knew them, mainly. The tradition is dead. Bill Callahan is gone. Worst lost since 1958. Well, this is what traditions do. Wiped out in the rain.
Two of my friends felt this affect. They broke up. I won't go very deep into it, but it was washed away in a two-thirty phone call.

And it cleansed. It took the garbage off the street, it washed the blood off my hands and dirt off the graves.

It confused. It turned things around. Leaping over a cemetary fence, the taste of Guiness heavy in my mouth. Blips and sketches before I took a deep breath and walked to coffee.

And it moved on. As quickly as it came. The forecast calls for clear skies. This weekend burns away. The early-hours phone calls and cuts and caffiene won't be remembered long.