Lensky and Hammer were friends.
They belonged to each other as good people who care do.
The night it happened was a foreshadowing of an ill fated romance that was long in coming and short in life.
Lensky loved his job at the art institute. It provided him with an artist existence without the struggle of marketing his talent. While Hammer, a short curved man was always at his side.
You might call Hammer a flunky, within his duties, but he loved to provide Lensky with what ever he needed to get out their ever sought after trade magazine.
Everyone at the institute suffered through each month until deadline.
Since there were no ads in their publication, it was a simple task indeed to put it to bed.
The night of the big storm, all the traffic lights in the city had gone dark and their building was on auxiliary power until the next morning.
The overhead fixture dimmed, as Hammer snuggled on the floor beneath his overcoat as Lensky did the same with his.
The dark sky lit up followed by a crank of thunder, just as Lensky fell asleep.
The two men awoke for an instant, turned away from each other only to have revolved into a spoon position.
“Wait,” Lensky said.
“Pardon me,” Hammer answered as they turned away from each other and fell back to sleep.