By eight the marquee still smelled of popcorn and a little rain that had not quite decided to fall. The clouds arrived early, hovering in a polite line at the box office until the usher pointed them to the back row, where the seats were widest and nobody minded a cooler shoulder.
We asked a woman by the candy counter what the picture had been. Something with boats, she said. They gasped at every sail. Very considerate gasping. Nobody in front even felt a drip.
A note in the usher's book asked patrons not to offer extra napkins. The guests prefer to leave a little dew as thanks. The seats dry by noon, and the velvet looks newly combed.
The next morning the same two clouds came back for the cartoon. They brought a smaller one, who sat very still and applauded with both hands of mist.