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to get away from such a downpour. But she found herself enjoying it so much that she couldn't bring herself to move. She stayed as she was, bent over, letting the rain mat down her hair, run down her face and neck, soak through the back of her sweater, the seat of her skirt and panties. |
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It made her feel . . . strange. |
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Hot and strange and full of a restless urge that she couldn't quite focus on. She ached to do something. But what? |
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'Ethel?' The rain was loud, smacking the concrete, drumming on the car, pattering on the paper sacks and the plastic wrappers of toilet paper and Wonder-bread that had spilled onto the driveway. But the voice was louder. 'Is that you? What's going on?' |
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She looked up. Through the mist and shrouds of black rain, she saw a vague figure in the doorway. 'It's me, Charlie,' she called. |
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'Well, don't just stand out there. You'd better get inside before you're soaked.' |
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'I'm coming,' she called, and stood up straight. 'I'm coming,' she repeated, striding toward the open door. 'I sure am, Charlie,' she muttered as she started to run, head tilted back, smiling into the rain. She didn't see the front stoop. The single step tripped her, sent her sprawling. She slid on her belly across the slick, painted concrete. |
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'My Lord!' Charlie gasped. 'Are you all . . . Why, you're as black as the ace of spades! What the devil's going on?' |
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Ethel scurried up, lunging forward. |
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