Raiment

The rain poured from the skies, drenching Shelley from head to toe. She squealed as her felt her toes squish in her heels, and again when she ran through a puddle and splashed herself. Her bright red trench coat was now a rich wine plastered to her body, the fat newspaper she held over her head useless.

When she finally made it to her apartment building, she shook herself like a dog, letting droplets fall onto the welcome mat in front of the doorman's station.

"Beautiful day we're having," he said in a deadpan.

Shelley shot him a glare and tossed her soggy newspaper onto his marble countertop. Then she walked to the elevator, heels clicking gratefully on the hard dry floor, and took it to the top floor. The penthouse.