it’s a hailstorm

and the fat boy groans

as the stones hit him

while he rests

in the tall green grass

staring

glaring

at the stormy sky

with his red and white kite

dancing around

ripped to hell

by bits of ice.

He prays

for better weather

and a chunk of ice

smashes his forehead.

He sleeps

The sun dries his blood

like a mudpuddle.

He wakes.

“Is this heaven?”