The black clouds loomed over the whole city, covering the streets below in a shawl of darkness. Sleet plummeted from the sky, warming up to a heavy rain that pounded the pavement below like an angry boxer. Windshield wipers tirelessly swung back and forth, wiping away the bulky raindrops from the windshields of countless cars and trucks of Los Angeles.
A yellow taxi with black stripes came to a sliding stop next to the curb of Lexington and Fifth, though it was hard to tell its color due to the dense, gray fog. The right passenger door swung open with an ear-piercing squeak, and a plain gray umbrella popped out of the car; it was closely followed by a tall man in a black suit. The man let out a grunt as he instantly became soaked despite the umbrella’s best efforts to shield him. His eyes veered toward his leather suitcase, hoping that its expensive price tag would mean it was water-proof. As the businessman slammed the door of the taxi shut, the cabby quickly pushed the pedal to the metal, causing water from underneath the tires to spew in all directions.
“Shit!” Michael yelled out as the muddy water targeted his shoes, his suit, and his pale face. His curse was consumed by the patter of the rain. Michael ran his hand over his face to wipe away the dirty liquid and then checked his silver Rolex and noticed that it had stopped ticking. He tapped the face of the watch with one slender finger to no avail. His thin lips formed a scowl that showed his pearly-whites.
“Just forget it. Get to the office and things will get better,” Michael said to himself. He recently started seeing a psychiatrist who was working on giving Michael a more positive outlook on life. It seemed to be working; or at least he hoped it was. According to Dr. Green, if Michael didn’t lower his levels of stress, he was on a one-way plane-ride to heart-attack-ville. Things had really gone downhill in Michael’s life since the divorce. He lost his support system, his boss was constantly breathing down his neck with unattainable deadlines, and the bills were really starting to pile up due to the loss of that second income his wife had provided.
But moving forward was all Michael could do and he began to place one wet foot in front of the other. Just a few more steps and he would be in the lobby of Gemnicore and could finally get out of the downpour that would sooner or later cause someone to get hypothermia. Just as Michael was about to make one final short sprint to reach the front door of his towering office building, a newspaper stand caught his eye. The newspaper stand was one of those little metal boxes that had a glass window to give you a preview of the paper, but required a quarter in order to open the door and get the paper out. It had always stood at this location, but for some odd reason, Michael had never really paid any attention to it until today. The now completely drenched man let out a sneeze and then approached the dented metal box that held the daily newspaper. Using the sleeve of his suit, Michael wiped off the rain drops on the display window and saw a familiar face staring back at him.
“Susan…” he choked out in disbelief. An old photograph of his ex-wife was on the front page of the LA Times. Above the photograph were big bold letters saying “Local Woman …” The rest of the headline was caught off due to the irregular way the paper had been folded. Damn the lazy worker that hadn’t followed proper procedure and had merely stuffed the paper into the stand. Michael grabbed the steel handle of the newsstand and tugged at it. He had been put into a state of shock since seeing Susan’s picture and wasn’t thinking clearly. Anxiety took hold of Michael and his eyes began to frantically search for the problem. They landed on the “25¢” sticker. Switching his umbrella from the left to the right hand, Michael fished his pants pocket for a quarter. Face strained with his tongue slightly out, Michael spent about 10 seconds luring the coin out from the depths of his pocket.
As Michael tried to place the quarter into the proper slot, the combination of his wet, shaking hands and the slickness of the quarter caused him to drop it. Following the guidelines of Murphy’s Law, the quarter rolled down the flooded street and dived down the gutter with a quiet splash. Michael’s face lost its look of concern and contorted itself into a mask of beet red anger. His free hand once again clasped the silver handle of the newspaper stand. All his yearning was transferred into energy as Michael’s sympathetic nervous system activated and his body was injected with a heavy dose of epinephrine. Michael’s heart began to beat dangerously fast and his nostrils flared. Michael pulled. The handle seemed to bend and the whole newsstand toppled forward and crashed on top of Michael’s foot with an excruciatingly painful thud.
A primal and instinctive yell was released from deep within Michael’s throat and reverberated against the tall office buildings. Several pigeons that had been taking shelter under a nearby store canopy took to full flight. A passerby dared to look at Michael, fear instantly entered the man’s eyes and he picked up his already swift pace to get the hell away from that psycho. Not too many others glanced over. It was raining, they were late for work, and maniacs roaming the street were not entirely uncommon on the streets of Los Angeles.
Michael dropped everything he was holding and rammed the newspaper stand off of his foot. The pain was almost unbearable but his thoughts kept bouncing back towards Susan.
Michael and Susan had been married for only three years when they realized it was not going to work out. Their split seemed to result from their differing personalities; Michael was a very serious and hard-working man while Susan preferred to goof off and relax in the sun. As Michael was busy trying to advance in his career and gain a promotion, Susan’s head was in the clouds daydreaming of her next vacation. Luckily for them, their attempts at having a child had not worked out and there was no kid to complicate the separation. From the day of the filing, the divorce only lasted a week and was as simple as divorces come. However, this did not mean the two did not have any feelings left for each other.
Susan would always have a place in Michael’s heart. Sometimes before bed, he would close his eyes and picture her warm, smiling face and her free-flowing blonde hair. He would then turn to the other side of the bed and be extremely disappointed when he opened his eyes and saw the spot vacant. There would always be love for Susan, as far as Michael was concerned.
Michael plummeted to his knees and began to shiver as the freezing water penetrated his shins, knees, and thighs. He aimed his elbow and swung it down full force until shards of glass splattered in all directions and a thin stream of blood began to trickle inside his coat. His right arm went number almost instantly; a combination of the chill from the air and the body’s natural response made sure it happened quickly. Fighting through the pain, Michael dug his hand greedily for the paper and dragged it out carefully from the wreckage of glass. Everything else vanished. All the noise, the people, the cars, etc. fell off the face of the Earth.
Michael recklessly unfolded the newspaper and his eyes targeted the headline like a soldier eyeing his enemy across the trench.
“Local woman found dead.”
Nothing. No tears, no thoughts. And then a great pressure appeared. It felt like a woman in stilettos was jumping up and down on his chest. A large anvil straight out of a Warner Bros. cartoon had been dropped on his body. The air departed from Michael’s lungs, floating away before his eyes and never returning. A cold sweat, barely visible due to the rain drops, broke out on Michael’s forehead. Realization struck Michael like a sniper’s bullet and helplessness enveloped him. His body gave up and fell over backwards, his head hitting the concrete with an ugly splat. People finally noticed. They finally began to crowd around.
“Call 911!” a nameless voice called out.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my…” a shriek echoed all the way to the clouds.
Lightning bolted across the sky. The rain would just not stop. It showed no mercy to anyone or anything. Not even to the ambulance, swerving left and right, lights flashing red and blue, trying to get to the man that would be pronounced dead before he even made it to the hospital. A few seconds later the boisterous crack of the thunder was heard.