Cold rain, wind and hail pummeled the city. The power had been out for some time. Jeanne didnt know the exact reason why. She didnt care. She was just pissed.
The entire city had shut down, traffic had come to a complete stop, shed missed her meeting, and she was soaked to the bone. Jeanne could do nothing but shiver in her flimsy business suit as she scurried down the murky, old brick street of the French Quarter. She held her briefcase over her head as if that would somehow protect her from the driving rain.
Finally, she found shelter in the broken tile alcove of an old building that appeared to serve no other purpose than to set an example of how quickly neglected buildings deteriorate.
The woman dried her face with her sleeve, though that accomplished little. Her clothing was saturated. She brushed her short blonde hair back with the palms of her hands. Excess water ran down her neck and back giving her chills. She straightened her dripping garments, and then reached for...
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