(No, I will not blame spring fever for choosing to write another 100-word story for today, although it is a real affliction and this is a very poignant and true story!)

I worked for an advertising agency in the city where I had a windowed office overlooking 42nd Street. The news station, WPIX occupied the top floor and I rendezvoused with Mr. G, the Weatherman, in the elevator. One afternoon I strolled with my young son through Lincoln Center. Its famous fountain sent mist our way and we mistook it for drizzle. Coincidentally, at this moment, we saw Mr. G, who lived in the neighborhood. He smiled at recognition. “I got fired,” I confessed with an upbeat tempo. “Congratulations!” he responded and I never saw him again.