I mouthed a silent curse as I removed my flip-flops and donned my tennis shoes. Lamenting my misfortune I raised a finger to the tempest above, it’s foul wetness bringing with it the ruin of every comfort and plan.
Shorts-clad and wet I drudged into the chicken place.
I looked like an asshole.
In line I dreamt of a dry world - where no barbecue is cancelled or suede ruined.
Snapping back to reality I retrieved my order...one day I will be dry. One day all things will be dry.
