Until Thanksgiving by Rupured Michael

Author:Rupured, Michael [Rupured, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2012-12-15T16:00:00+00:00

• 27 •

JOSH rolled out of bed Friday morning, hit the off button on his white-noise machine, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a thunderclap crashed close enough to make the windows tremble in their frames. He pulled up the blinds in time to catch a lightning flash, followed a millisecond later by another boom. Rain fell in sheets, washing the street and sidewalk below clean of grime, litter, and assorted body fluids.

The power flickered but stayed on while Josh showered. The bedroom and living room contained the only windows in the apartment. If the power went out, he’d need something more than his Bic lighter to ever find anything in the kitchen or bathroom. As he finished dressing, Josh made a mental note to pick up a flashlight and some candles, just in case. He searched through the apartment and realized he needed an umbrella too.

He dug through his closet and found a rain slicker he’d worn maybe once since Ben bought it for him. Josh had wanted to add the bright yellow coat to the pile of clothing destined for the Salvation Army, but Linda had suggested he keep it. Today he was glad she had insisted he hang on to it.

By the time he stepped out of the West Park lobby, a wall of rain fell from the portico. Josh realized that even with the waterproof jacket, unless he wanted to get soaked to the skin, walking two blocks to work was simply not an option. He raised his arm and flagged down a cab.

“Walker, Cochran and Lowe up on Dupont Circle please.”

The cab driver grunted, clearly disappointed by Josh’s destination. He veered back into traffic, and two minutes later, pulled up to the entrance. “That will be two dollars and forty cents.”

Feeling guilty for bothering him with such a short trip, Josh handed the driver a five-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

The hooded jacket kept Josh’s hair and shirt dry, but not his pants or shoes. He entered the office looking like he’d waded to work through thigh-high water. As he walked past her desk, the perky blonde receptionist said, “Nice jacket,” and giggled.

Josh felt his face flush. He walked past her without comment to the coat rack, where nearly every peg contained a black or khaki London Fog trench coat. He hung up his bright yellow slicker on an empty peg and added “new raincoat” to his mental shopping list. As he walked to his office, he cursed Linda’s practicality and Ben’s lack of taste.

Safe in his comfortable chair behind the fortress of his desk, Josh attacked an in-box filled with job orders, incoming mail, and a stack of interoffice memos. The attorneys he worked for laid waste to entire forests every month with some deep-seated need to put everything in writing. Memos fell steadily into his in-box, like autumn leaves on a windy day.

He was halfway through the most recent stack of memos when the intercom buzzed. “Mr. Thad Parker is calling for you on line three, sir.

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