An umbrella can only go so far when it’s carried away by the wind. If it happens to hit the side of a bus on a busy street, then so be it. Maybe the umbrella bounces gently off the bus and against a taxi. Maybe a pedestrian (as silly as they are) picks it up. Whatever the outcome, the fact still remains, it is raining and gray.
I think the umbrella doesn’t really have a place.
This umbrella has a mission however.
The mission, how could you have forgotten already? The moment described above is now about to be shattered. For the umbrella, at least for today, has a role. It’s role…
Upon colliding with the bus, scaring the driver, the driver, in turn veering into oncoming traffic, the oncoming traffic hitting the bus, the bus lighting up, fire consuming it, the taxi that the umbrella chose as its next victim, after hitting the bus, crashing into the silly pedestrian (along with several others), the pedestrian collapsing, panic, fire….
Lasting only a few moments, the chaos subsides. Mission accomplished. Elated, the umbrella has fulfilled its duties. But there’s a lingering sadness. The umbrella was waiting for more.
Where was the death?
Where were the riots?
What about the buildings?
Why are they still standing?
That day, a single umbrella caused so much to happen. But was it enough? As the umbrella was engulfed in the flames from the result of its mission, a tear of melting plastic wandered down its rib as if it were expressing woe.
The umbrella is gone.