During the storm the lights flickered. Randy disappeared for an hour. A shelf of liquid body soap expired; no one noticed. That one lady (you know the one) returned two blouses & a Foreman grill. She had receipts. The rafter finch above soft goods shit on the nice bath mats. The Häagen-Dazs freezer decided to give up. Corporate sent too many emails about Circle bonus issues and the hiring pause. They remained unread. The generator didn't kick on when the power went out. We closed early, sat in the parking lot doing whippets while lightning did its thing & the wind sang along. Then the hail started, pea-sized & mean. I smoked a cigarette & watched it skitter across the hood. A cart made a break for it, rolled across the lot, bounced against a curb & slewed sideways. I smoked a cigarette, fell asleep. When I woke up, we were doing eighty in a sixty-five outside Lebanon, Illinois, cornfields a blur as rain drummed the windows. We passed a dairy barn. Wendy mooed & lowed & the rest of us…
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