Jazz concert cancelled.

Someone had written the message in black marker on copy paper and put on all the doors to enter the main library.

“It’s stupid they cancelled it.” An elderly woman in red laying down to the side of the entryway said.

I had come for the jazz concert, forgetting to bring a long overdue book to drop off, and had paying work to get to so decided to take my cue and leave before entering.

“Why did they cancel it?”

“On account of the weather.”

It had been verging on tumultuous out all day and it was turning to night so a fine response.

“Come out next Friday,” she said, resting as a Roman at supper, with her life’s belongings providing support.

“I will try.”

“Yeah man, they do it all through April. Every Friday in April.”

“That’s cool. Thanks!” I made my way back to the car only to be sidetracked by an oil sheen rainbow brought to life by a puddle in the well-worn asphalt.