Saturation

We had this crazy storm last week. They must have been all out of buckets because it was coming down in kegs, and everywhere I went people were swimming through puddles on the ground, although the air was just about wet enough to float in. “Monsoon season,” they said, laughing. The wind blew a thick cloud out of the fountain, so the plaza was twice as wet as anywhere else. Everyone’s umbrella was getting blown inside out at one certain point, like a wind corridor, just like in the Loop. When I got there, the rain penetrated my jacket, my clothes and my skin, but I just turned to one side and my umbrella was blown the right way out again.

Tornado

I never saw it.

The sky turned green and the clouds hung low over campus, but the only noises seemed far away. Distant winds.

Joe herded us all into the basement of the library when the weather radio gave the warning. The power went out and we had only quavering fluorescent emergency lights for the two hours he held us captive down there. Student workers, professors, townies, we were all trapped together, but we could hear Joe running around on the main floor like a pirate captain navigating his ship through a storm.