There’s a storm brewing just over the horizon. There’s the sound of thunder about to break. There’s electricity in the air. There’s nothing that can be done to stop it.

She’s about to finish dinner. She’ll clean up after herself, because she wants to be ready. She will scrape her plate and rinse it off in the sink. She will glance at the front door as she heads to the living room to see that it’s locked. She will curl up on the couch with a glass of wine, and see if the monologue makes her want to watch the rest of Conan.

He will finish this one and maybe one more. He will convince the bartender that he’s fine to drive by reciting the alphabet backwards while standing on one foot. He will jingle the keys in his pocket, laughing at the sound that they make.

The Officer will not be surprised by the call, just disappointed. The Officer will arrive on the scene and fill out all the appropriate paperwork. The Officer will mourn in the future, because there will always be a job to do.

Then the rain will start.