Eventually, everyone said their goodbyes, and the six promgoers piled into the old car and, with the exhaust belching a generous amount of black fumes as if to announce their departure, they were off. If they were to look out the rear window of the old clunker, they would see the rain curtain, now hanging directly over the farmstead, falling behind them.
The minutes dragged by - the Flannery home was a good distance from the school, and the ride took roughly thirty minutes - as the anticipation for the night of fun and frolicking grew. Each young man and woman had different hopes regarding the night's events, but ultimately they all felt that it would be a good night.
The only notable portion of the ride to Prom occurred about fifteen minutes in. As they slowed to a stop at an otherwise-abandoned four-way stoplight (one of the few to be seen outside of downtown Snowcreek) their eyes were drawn to a large black crow, braying angrily from a swaying traffic light. Now, a single crow at dusk was not a strange sight in itself - but this crow was large and wicked-looking, with fierce red eyes that seemed to follow the car as it pulled hastily through the intersection. Even stranger, as the car pulled away, more crows alighted onto the perilously-swaying wire, each set of eyes seeming to be trained on the rear bumper.
***
Finally, the car pulled into the school parking lot. The sound of the bass beat could be heard for at least half a mile, and formally-garbed couples were flocking to the front doors. At this point, the moon had begun to peer over the horizon - the majority of the earth's satellite was concealed by the darkening clouds, revealing only a slight, haunting glimmer of light.
In what now seemed to be a hideous lack of foresight on the part of the Student Council, this year's prom had been placed outside, in the school's courtyard. Large tents adorned the courtyard, which was easily the length of a football field and about the same width, and a dance floor had been constructed near the front, with a makeshift DJ stage just beyond that. On the stage, Mr. Johnson, the school Vice Principal and self-proclaimed "cool dawg" could be seen fiddling with an old apple computer, insuring that the bass-heavy tunes kept pumping. Some had already begun to dance - which, of course, was less dancing and more jumping up and down for the faster-pitched songs and rocking to the beat of the more mellow ones. Every once in a while, the pace of the music would slow to a romantic crawl, and the couples would come together and sway side to side, staring into each other's eyes intently. It certainly seemed to be a great party!
Most seemed to not even pay attention to the slowly-advancing rain curtain. Perhaps it wouldn't be a problem - it could change course, or simply move slowly enough to not arrive until after Prom had concluded. Even so, for some it seemed to set an eerie pall over an otherwise-enchanting night. As if to affirm those eerie feelings, every so often a rogue raindrop would fall - perhaps a vanguard for the coming storm.