At 5:55pm Evan looked up from his computer and said a volcano had erupted in Iceland, and I have to admit my heart lurched. Then he went to the market downstairs to get a lemon because of course, Rapture or no Rapture, the polenta with clams & white wine and the ribboned asparagus salad with lemon & parmesan has to be ready by the time Friend Jill arrives.
At 6:03 the skies opened up and the rain came pouring down, straight down, at first almost silently and then with the noise of quiet thunder hitting the concrete on the plaza and streets outside.
I called my brother because seriously, if the world's going to come crashing down around your ears, my brother's the guy to call.
Now, at 7:32, the sun is breaking again through the cloud cover to the west, sparkling across the Hudson and straight up 187th Street and into our living room windows. Evan is in the kitchen behind me putting the final touches on dinner. And Jill is circling the neighborhood looking for alternate-side parking.
I guess it's just another day here in New York City after all.