Here comes the rain again
Falling on my head like a memory
It’s a dark and dismal day. Walking into work this morning I attempted to use an umbrella to keep me dry. I battled with it for twenty minutes not even giving up when one half of the material was no longer attached to the spokes. I’ve always hated umbrellas. My mum bought me my first umbrella when I was about four years old. It was blue with a frilly edge and she thought it was really beautiful. I, on the other hand, thought it was horrible because I abhorred all things girly. I don’t know where I was when it started to rain but I remember liking the blue rain. Of course the rain wasn’t really blue, just coloured from the dye that was running down the handle and dripping off my fingers. It seems that my mum had bought me a parasol and not an umbrella.