I am not writing this myself. I have finally convinced someone to do it for me. She promised to post it on the Internet, but only as fiction. I suppose it is a bit unbelievable.

The rain fell in sheets and the wind, gusting first this way and then that, made Corey Plaz's umbrella useless. He was completely soaked by the time he had run the short distance from his car to the employee entrance by the loading dock of Scagliola's Body Works. With his umbrella in one hand and his briefcase in the other, Corey leaned an elbow heavily on the doorbell while cursing fluently; hoping it would get him inside just a little bit faster. Furious, he was ready to start pounding on the door when it finally opened.