Boulevard of Broken Brolleys

Sad, sad umbrella

Sad, sad umbrella

It seems floods and rain are the order of the month recently, and in the rise (literally) of the flood water, and I’ve noticed there’s those suffering a sort of genocide, splattered over the pavements- the death of the umbrella.

When the rain starts to hammer down, umbrellas nationwide pop out on edge, fearing for their near future, holding their spines strong in the blustery wind. ‘If I can’t hold this together, they’re gonna bin me. That’s it, I’m a gonner.’

Countless tragedies of lifeless and mangled brollies litter paths, rubbish bins and gutters, laying there sadly and lifelessly, remembering better days when they stood high and strong, protecting their owner from the hammering rain.

It’s a sad moment when you witness one of these losses, carelessly tossed aside like it never existed.

Every time it rains, spare a thought for those sad umbrellas.



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