stoutfellow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stoutfellow) wrote2006-04-06 11:18 am
stoutfellow) wrote2006-04-06 11:18 am
Entry tags:
May Flowers Aren't Worth This
When I left the house, the sky was partly cloudy.
Halfway to school on the bus, it began to sprinkle.
The moment the bus stopped to let me off, the skies opened up. It's a ten-minute walk, or a five-minute sprint, from the bus stop to the Science Building.
On reaching the building, I paused a moment to chat in the department office. I left a small puddle on the floor. My windbreaker was soaking wet, having heroically sacrificed itself on my behalf; my hair and pants were in not much better condition.
Fifteen minutes have passed. It is no longer raining.
Halfway to school on the bus, it began to sprinkle.
The moment the bus stopped to let me off, the skies opened up. It's a ten-minute walk, or a five-minute sprint, from the bus stop to the Science Building.
On reaching the building, I paused a moment to chat in the department office. I left a small puddle on the floor. My windbreaker was soaking wet, having heroically sacrificed itself on my behalf; my hair and pants were in not much better condition.
Fifteen minutes have passed. It is no longer raining.