I walk to the train station, wearing the same coat that I’ve been wearing since November. I’ve grown to hate it. It taunts me if I reach for another in the closet: Yeah right, you’re going to wear a jean jacket? You think that will keep you warm and dry? Who are you kidding, girlie. You need my thick down padding and weather-resistant shell.
Though it’s drizzling, I don’t carry an umbrella – partly out of irrational defiance, but mostly because they all suffer from mangled stretchers, broken ribs and torn canopies. My poor umbrellas – Nautica black, New Orleans Zoo tan and black, Brookstone super mini black. Thank you for your valiant service in the line of duty. I’m sorry you have become martyrs to a hopeless cause: Keeping me dry in howling sheets of rain. I will miss you. Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand. Maybe you’ll work better for God than you worked for me, eh?
The birds are chirping. What are they saying, do you think? Come mate with me! or Why is it so freaking cold! or All this rain is drowning the worms!
