The sky

She emerged to dark clouds clashing in the sky. The wind had died down, the air now still as if waiting for something to happen. Two blocks later the sky opened up and a maelstrom poured into the streets of Philadelphia. The downpour soaked Agnes to the bone. Her shoes squished in the sudden flooding and her hair clung to the sides of her head. The rain poured down her face. It cleansed her of the dust, grime, and perspiration she’d accumulated during the day. She didn’t care.

A thunderclap changed her mind and she ran for cover at Longacre’s Music. Mr. Longacre and two assistants were making a cackle with stacks of messy papers. She’d always felt at home here. It’d be the best of all places to wait out the storm.

“Good afternoon, Agnes. A little wet outside, wouldn’t you say?” he said.

“May I use the ladies’ room? I’ve been outside most of the afternoon.”

“You know where it is.”

Ten minutes later Agnes came out of the bathroom, her hair combed and her face dry. “We’re doing inventory,” Mr. Longacre said as he squeezed by her with a stack of papers, “in advance of the sale. So it’s a bit cluttered.”

“Are you having a sale?” She made a note to stock up on Schumann and Debussy.

“Not as you think,” he said. “I’m selling the store. We’re moving to Florida.”

Nothing sounded more revolting – a state with wild alligators, mosquitoes, and humidity that made this afternoon feel like a spring breeze? Why would anyone do such a thing?