A misty gloaming, the end of a deluge, meant that those who were fed up with the pelting had given up on any barrier between them and the sky.
And then you had people like me, people cooped up in an office all day and glad for the feel of the elements, any elements.
So I walked quickly, thinking I could dodge the occasional fat drop or two. In my ears the Bach cantata "Sleepers Awake." Trumpet soaring; organ chords giving me a rhythm for footfall, a walking bass line. I let the contrapuntal melody move me forward.
It took three and a half plays of "Sleepers Awake" to reach Metro Center. I was a little damp but no worse for the wear.