I looked and waited in the warm, out at the falling rain. Hoping it would stop pouring so I could go home again. I did not want icy fingers to caress my face, or wetly with the wind, tangle my clothes tightly around my legs in vicious embrace.
Reducing an elegant stride to a snail’s pace. As through unseen puddles, I might have to splash my way. An umbrella’s unfolding though attempted would not last long, as the gale blew and blew so very strong.
This pub is about to close no longer could I dawdle, tightly gathering my belongings I rushed out into the storm, to my home which was just next door.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Image © Kannan Spartan
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