On his index is a tiny storm cloud with a bolt of lightning coming out of it; on his middle finger, above the old lilac that was already there, is now a cloud with a small sun poking out behind it, and then on his ring finger is a little sun. I press my lips together and smile. ”How is the weather, Beej?” He drops his index and middle fingers down and grins at me “And you?” He nods his chin at me. “Very pleasant, thank you.”
