Jim called to talk to my boss, but she was meeting with the lawyers. He used to work here on the blond row, he said. People didn’t think he could do it, but he could. His partner just died for no particular reason. The sadness was in his voice like a panting, a stream evaporating in the desert. He warned me that a dust storm was coming. The hills are becoming obscured, he said. It is blowing up a gale. Be careful.