'Last Night in the Garden of Eden' by Kristin Tenor

The apple she throws at him explodes like a water balloon filled with worms and warm mush—the sweet fermentation assaulting the space between them. She runs toward the stone house where he’ll find her lying across the bed, the baby’s crazy quilt coiled tight around her head like a viper. The Farmer’s Almanac predicts a dry summer and the end of the world. Only one has happened.