On my way back from the German consulate it started raining as if the gods had decided that this thing with the flood in that popular, funny book was, like, a cool idea and let’s go for it. I wanted to avoid walking 30 meters through the rain and took a detour through the condo which is sheltered.
Or so I thought.
The rain was lashing out as if it was punishing the city for having the audacity of standing in its way, and even when I was taking the pathways which had rooftops I was hit by droplets which were virtually racing horizontally. So I thought I’d take another little detour which I expected to be sheltered even a little more.
It wasn’t, by the way.
But this was not the main problem:
Ah damn: a huge puddle, right there.
Look how the flower beds are overflowing.
This did not look like a good way forward, so I turned around and decided that I’d rather have a few more rain drops on my shirt and hair (the birth certificates that I had just picked up were fortunately safe and sound in the nice, courtesy of the German embassy plastic envelope), than wet feet.