I have a umbrella in my hand.
Not yet opened, nor closed, just pulled straight to the longest length, allowing the top to brush against the ground, hanging lightly at a moderate height, forming a neither fat nor thin acute angle.
But there's no need to worry about the fabric rubbing against sand and gravel.
The so-called "card" is not holding the handle end, nor hooking the hanging rope with the pinky finger, allowing it to be in an unstable state. Instead, it is exerting force with the thumb, lifting the top of the umbrella, forming a simple lever.
It's stable, but slightly presses against the base of the thumb.
Yes, I like this slightly painful feeling.
The recent weather is not very good. Today, it started pouring rain in the early morning without considering the open windows.
When I woke up in the wind filled with thick moisture, there was already a small puddle of water on the floor.
I don't mind spending some time cleaning up the house. In fact, there isn't much else to do - just a simple mop will do. What's annoying is just the rain itself.
In heavy rain, urban drainage is always put to the test. Unfortunately, it seems that the places I have rented in the past few years have not performed very well. The best ones are barely passable.
Wearing a pair of shoe covers, taking a detour, or carrying an extra pair of shoes... there are always methods, but whether it's carrying more things or adding a few minutes, it's not ideal. The former delays brushing through the phone on the way, and the latter, if you miss the scheduled time for the bus, it's even more frustrating.
Fortunately, the rain stopped quickly, although I didn't see it with my own eyes. The scene of drinking a glass of milk gradually turned the rain into a drizzle, and then only gray clouds remained.
Just like when the machines downstairs were continuously roaring and suddenly turned off a few days ago, abrupt, sudden, and refreshing.
Of course, before going out, I still need to bring an umbrella.
Pick up the umbrella stuck at the door, like a lump of cartilage.
Pull, tug, swing, fold, stretch, tie, loosen... after nearly ten minutes of fumbling, the umbrella surface is tied into a state where the ends are thick and the middle is thin, the Velcro is tightly stretched, and it looks like it could collapse at any moment.
In short, it looks like a cheap cloth doll, with words like rough and ugly. But if you really think about it, you can only blame others.
It's really a shame that I can't fold the umbrella.
Maybe because I can't stand it, I'm not willing to hold the umbrella tightly in my hand or put it in my bag, as it feels like it would ruin the neatness.
Anyway, it's not bad to have it wedged between my fingers like a seesaw.
Between ups and downs, a tingling sensation spreads in my hand.
The moisture is still thick, as if it could condense into droplets at any time.
Even in autumn, there is no chill. With each breath, the warm and humid feeling makes one drowsy.
Since the charger was damaged in the rain, I'm not keen on taking out my phone at times like this.
I haven't finished walking on the commuting path, so I have to continue letting the umbrella handle bounce in my hand, occasionally extending it forward to gently push through the bustling crowd, walking alone.
- August 28, 2023, morning