Your Monday Moment of Noir

"Then I noticed an odd thing. The rain had started to bounce. It fell on the shiny black pavement and leaped into the air like tiny pellets of white shot. It had turned to sleet. That settled it. I was soaked all the way to the skin and I'd freeze to death before morning if I didn't get inside somewhere. A long-shot chance was better than none at all. I pulled the coat collar tighter about my face, yanked down the brim of my hat, and crossed the street."

Man on the Run
By Charles Williams
(Gold Medal, November 1958)