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cyranoIt finally started to rain, probably about the time my head abruptly stopped feeling like the foundry for a squadron of very clumsy nibelung smiths. And it was torrential. The car was parked ten feet from the office door, and I was drenched before I sat down.
I threw the wipers on as hard as they'd go, and eased toward home. The sky ahead was early evening, just starting to get hints of pink in it. But every time I glanced in the rearview mirror, the world was as dark as sin, tempest tossed and swimmy through the thick film of water on the rear window. Except, of course, for those brief moments when the sky was torn apart by blazing tongues of lightning and the world glowed like Chernobyl.
And of course it had quieted down before I got home. Because the town council has firmly decreed that the weather must not get too excitable.
I threw the wipers on as hard as they'd go, and eased toward home. The sky ahead was early evening, just starting to get hints of pink in it. But every time I glanced in the rearview mirror, the world was as dark as sin, tempest tossed and swimmy through the thick film of water on the rear window. Except, of course, for those brief moments when the sky was torn apart by blazing tongues of lightning and the world glowed like Chernobyl.
And of course it had quieted down before I got home. Because the town council has firmly decreed that the weather must not get too excitable.