I walked downstairs and Carolyn still wasn’t home. The apartment was stifling, imbued with creosote and oil and grease. I stuck my head out the window, the sun high in the sky, beating down brightly. A bell tolled somewhere, loud, deep, consistent bongs that were near, but not near enough to detect where they were coming from. To the east, far off over the lake, dark, heavy clouds turned the sky into a menacing haze, and within it lightning strikes were followed by the low, veiled growls of thunder that’d reach us before the sun set. I watched the clouds gather and billow westward, moving faster than I originally thought but still a ways off. I tossed a book into my messenger bag and walked out the door. I called Carolyn when I got outside.

“Hello,” she answered in what I took to be an impatient sigh. In the background, I could hear talking, music, laughter.

“Are you still at work?”

“No. I stopped at a bar to have a quick drink with Holly. She works with me.”

I tried hiding my irritation. “You know when you’re coming home?”

“No.”

“Fine,” I sighed.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

I hung up without responding. I shook my head and realized it had taken Carolyn about fifteen total words to put me into a foul mood. But she called right back while the phone was still in my hand. I pressed IGNORE and slid the phone in my pocket.