Catherine Colombo [Author]


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An excerpt from the manuscript of my second book.
As the truck crawled along the street, she noticed a 24-hour convenience store at the next corner and decided that it was time to give in and ask someone for directions. After checking her rear view mirror, she changed lanes, intending to pull over to the curb and run in to the store. WHOOSH. Her front right side tire hit a giant pothole that created a cascade of water that reached almost 10 feet in the air before it hit the sidewalk.
She pulled the car to a stop a few seconds later and grabbed the umbrella that was resting on the passenger seat. She opened her door and held her umbrella outside, popping the catch to open it and then quickly jumped out. She was sprinting to the front door of the store when she heard someone loudly swearing nearby. She was getting used to the more broad language she heard in everyday situations since she moved to New York City, but this string of expletives included some words she had never even heard before.
Looking for the source of the word volley, her eyes fell on a man standing about 20 feet away from her. She couldn't make out his features from this distance, but she could tell that he was soaked to the bone. Rivulets of water were running from his hair and face and his suit jacket, shirt and jeans were plastered to his skin. As she stood there watching, he threw his umbrella into a garbage can with a flourish that would have made a fencer proud.

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