At five in the afternoon

Spectator: “He’s not coming.”
Toni: “What?”
Spectator: “The man. He’s not coming.”
— from the Godot episode of Treme

Yes it’s a Beckett sort of afternoon: the gray threat of rain, the interminable diesels idling across the street, my best chance of distraction a call from a lawyer. Where would the savor of happiness or pleasure be without their absence?