Elmo stared out the window of Thor’s big black car. The skies were darkening after a Friday with a high of 30. The weekend was going to be yet warmer, but with a chance of snow. They were parked outside a small, intimate restaurant. Through the window Elmo could see Elma, leaning close to the man across the table from her. “I didn’t want the boys to witness your humiliation,” Thor told Elmo. “With a mortal! What would a real weather god do?” he asked, stroking his giant hammer.
“I just never thought she …” Elmo stammered. “I mean … Ken Barlow?“