The street was slicked with rain; the combination of street lamp, front and rear lights, and the occasional blinker refracted in the beads made a pattern most pleasing. She huddled beneath my umbrella, which I was very smart to bring.
“It’s too bad,” I said, “there’s no way of telling what bar they went into.”
“It has to be one of these though,” she said.
“That’s true.”
We walked around another block. I didn’t think it was so very late but the sidewalks were deserted; we were the only pedestrians in sight. “I think you’re lost,” she said.
“It’s likely.”
“I’m lost too,” she said. “It’s a good thing.”