Outside the basement window the rain poured down in proverbial buckets. The wind whipped down the streets and between the houses, ripped through the trees and power lines. Henry couldn't remember the last time it had rained so hard. After hours in front of the typewriter he was starving and in spite of the calamity going on outside he needed to get out for air. He went upstairs and got his black raincoat from the hallway closet. Putting it on he looked at his watch and saw the time was 1:23 a.m. Had he truly been typing that long? No wonder he was famished. Henry would be hard pressed to find anything open at this hour, but he was determined to try. Before leaving he crept upstairs to see if Shelley was still awake, just in case she wanted anything. Henry turned the doorknob and gently pushed open t...

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