/ Wednesday /
A rain inspired post.
How long my umbrella lasts until I lose or it fails in the face of the wind is proportionate to how much I pay for it. And not in the way you would think. The more I pay for an brollie, the shorter its lifespan. A couple of years back I decided to forgo the dodgy ten buck umbrella and invest in something more durable. Sixty-five dollars later ... it's lifespan? Two uses. On some random street, a piece of plastic, probably worth two cents, broke, making the entire thing useless. Meanwhile, a two euro umbrella I bought at (a Two Euro Store ... is there such a thing?) has survived since August. Bastards.
Umbrellas are temperamental things. A sight you'd be familiar with walking to work any rainy morning is the battered corpses of metal and polyester, formerly known as umbrellas. Discarded by its owners, it lies there looking sad and motionless. There's something quite beautiful about umbrella roadkill. Maybe it's the sight of justice.