The wedding took eleven minutes to divide.

The rain took three days.

Memory court was not as scary as people said it was. Nobody ever shouted, “You ruined me!” while pointing an accusatory finger at their former spouse. It was a quiet process, largely because the fees attached to emotional escalation were astronomically high.

Flooding was a word from another time, and nobody used it anymore because it sounded like a bad omen. It evoked images of rushing water and submerged cars, or worse, like people standing on their roofs with their kids and dogs, waiting for help that would never come.