the news / the weather


just before i left the office it had stopped raining for a couple of hours. anna called and asked me if i wanted a ride home. no thanks, i said. i'll walk. that's when a co-worker looked out the window. a wall of purple-to-black clouds were bivouacked on the northeastern horizon. soon the storm will drop the hammer. i took my moleskin and the book i'm reading from my backpack and wrapped them in a plastic grocery bag. i zipped up my jacket and made a b-line for the exit. not two steps out of the building and small, thick drops of rain concussed with the concrete. i had 45 minutes of walking to go. 30 minutes in the rain was sweeping the city sideways. rain so heavy i couldn't see thru my glasses. taking them off the world becomes a matter of blurry agreements. 40 minutes in i'm three blocks from home. i cut across the safeway parking lot as i always do. a woman running for the grocery store entrance stops in her tracks. she takes one look at me, gasps and says, o my god.