WHAT IS NEECESSARY TO DO
Suddenly, a furious downpour, driven by the wind, turns umbrellas into nothing more than useless ornaments. Despite the long raincoat I wear on days that threaten rain, I can feel the gusts of wind smashing the heavy drops against the lower part of my legs. My hands are soaked, and the fabric of my coat feels like a dishcloth from the sink. My destination is close enough to dismiss the idea of a quick coffee while the rain eases, yet far enough to anticipate the inevitable soaking: getting home, changing clothes, hanging the wet ones to dry, slipping into my slippers, and dealing with the dripping umbrella from the front door to the laundry area, where I’ll have to open it “full sail” until it dries. Too many inconveniences. I have “important” things to do, and it annoys me to think of all the time I’m going to waste on such trivialities. Then, a cold, damp, impertinent drop sneaks down the collar of my raincoat and traces an irritating path along my back. “As soon as I get home,...