The rains stop for hours, and the sun comes out for minutes.
The Schizoid Trio breaks into the green room. They sway, slide and thump, moan and mouth-breathe, teeth bared, arms spread.
The Salsa Lady pauses on the sidewalk, presses play. Clamshell liberation draws her out through her ears. She poses, vertical jazz hands. Nods and steps. Arms work, feet accelerate. She spins, sings out with the beat, dat da-dat-dat-daa! Ever gaining momentum, spiral and slide down Third.
The rain has stopped in Seattle.
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