Windows have Erasers

Jonathan stood outside the cabin and watched the old yellowed window fling oranges against the dark. The rain had stopped and his dog was circling uneasily, about to shit. Mist hovered around him and on the lake it settled down like a meringue. Somewhere a fish clipped the surface of the water and disappeared. The dog found its spot. Above him the sky scattered its blue particulates, spittle exploding from the cough of some ailing god. People still smoke in this world, and the next.