There are quilted paper towels for spilled messes.

Trained accident crews for car wrecks.

FEMA. Disaster Control. Risk Management Majors.
Insurance agencies.

But nothing could prepare for this.

"It's going to be a disaster," she said.
He turned away with his feeble heart.

There's no insurance for broken hearts,
No agency warning him or sketching blueprints
No giant band-aid for the inevitable burn
There was only a risk.

And a chance she had to take.

A/N: A break from my new norm? Yes.

And FictionPress once again ate my spacing.