It started off as usual, the morning routine, the commute to work, the office tasks, with the only thing unusual being a trip to the employee clinic where I get allergy shots. Nothing exciting around there – that’s for sure.

I left the building to walk across the street to the clinic. As I stood waiting for the light to change, I noticed a black cloud in the far distance.

“Looks as if we might get some rain,” commented an elderly gentleman also waiting for the light.

“I was thinking the same thing.” I agreed.

“No point in going back for an umbrella as far away as that cloud is,” though I vaguely remembered something about thunder showers on the TV weather that morning.

I signed in at the clinic and sat down to wait. Others people came in mumbling about how dark it looked outside. I began to get a bit nervous. “I wish they would hurry up so I can get out of here before the rain comes.”

It was only a matter of minutes, but it seemed like hours before they finally called my name. As soon as I was done, I headed back, in spite of the fact that I was supposed to wait for 20 minutes before leaving. I didn’t have 2 minutes to spare, much less 20.

When I came to the glass doors going outside, I couldn’t believe my eyes. In a matter of mere minutes, the bright sun was gone and an ominous darkness prevailed.

I better run.

I hurried, certain I still had time to make it back before the rain began – certain but wrong. I got to middle of the street and the bottom fell out. The rain began to pour. I ran to the closest building and huddled in the doorway with all the other people huddled there.

“I can’t stand here forever. It could be hours until it decides to stop.” I decided to make a dash for it.

Lightning flashed and thunder crashed. The rain began blowing in sheets. I could feel it soaking my shirt and my shoes were swamped. Water was trickling into my eyes and as I brushed it away, I realized my hair was soaked.

Why didn’t I wait? Why didn’t I take an early lunch hour and stay until the rain stopped? A monsoon poured down on me. It must be a tsunami. That much water couldn’t come from the sky.

My hair was dripping, my clothes drenched, even my underwear was wet.

The security guard gave me a suspicious eye but let me pass when I got back. I tried to sneak onto the elevator, but wouldn’t you just know that someone who knew me would get on.

“Gee,” she commented, “Was it really that important to get back to work?”

“I love this place,” I said sarcastically. “Can’t keep me away.”

I sneaked into the ladies room where I tried to dry my hair with paper towels. It was pretty hopeless. I was going to be wet for a while. I returned to my desk and no one seemed to even notice. Hard to believe how involved people are in their own lives.

I remembered the tee shirt in my drawer, the dry tee shirt that I brought for emergencies like coffee spills. If this isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is. The dry shirt helped a lot, and so did the sweater that I keep around for chills.

My hair began to dry. My polyester pants had not absorbed to much water.

A co-worker came by. “You won’t believe what happened to me,” she said. “I got caught in the rain. I had to go in the drugstore and buy an umbrella.”

Seems I’m not the only one around here that misjudged the cloud. She didn’t look very wet. Should I tell her what happened to me?

Nah, I didn’t want to steal her thunder.

Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss