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A bitter wind and light fog made the trudge to work seem like an obstacle course. The cold mist felt like a slap in the face. I knew Megan was a formidable opponent but I didn’t think she could harness the wind. I pictured her sitting at home, holding a little boy doll and blowing in his face. I can get carried away sometimes with my imagination. I turned up my collar and pulled my trench coat tight around my throat. I wished I had a hat but never wore one when dressed professionally. I also wished I would have taken a cab, which I considered, but believed the walk would help get my juices flowing. I had to cut through some heavy sludge today.
On several occasions wind gusts had tried to twist my umbrella and finally succeeded just as I waved to Carrie on the porch. The umbrella snapp
