The rain clouds were piling up against the nearby mountains. It was going to rain, and probably rain hard, with possibly some hail thrown into the mix for good measure. The animals knew. They were already out of sight, hunkering down for the long storm that had been building all afternoon in the summertime heat.
The only thing that was moving was an older man, with a limping gait staggering along as best he could. He was going to get wet. The truck was totaled and he had nowhere to go. The shack was empty, but it was going to give little protection against the clouds that were within minutes of dropping their moisture upon him.
He thought to himself, "How had it gotten this bleak this quickly?" The answer was quite simple. Too much booze and not enough bongos.
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