Umbrella Wars

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I can't see a thing, not even my hand a foot from my face. The fog is thick, dense, solid as a brick wall. Figures appear from the mist as if from another world. Cold, shivering, unsure of the next step, one foot in front of the other, they must kee...

I can't see a thing, not even my hand a foot from my face.

The fog is thick, dense, solid as a brick wall. Figures appear from the mist as if from another world. Cold, shivering, unsure of the next step, one foot in front of the other, they must keep walking.

Lightly at first, like the spittle of angels the drizzle begin.
Up, suddenly, as if in a choreographed act the umbrellas unfold. Black, red, blue, green, grey, yellow, flowered, checked.

In a myriad colours the umbrellas shoot. Some happy, some sad, some new, some old, some beautiful, some ugly, some tall, some short. More and more and more and more umbrellas explode into the battlefield melee.

The drizzle increase in intensity, quickly build into a steady downpour. More umbrellas, small umbrellas, big umbrellas, medium umbrellas. More umbrellas join in the melee. Confused frenzy or organised chaos. It's a war out there. Umbrella to umbrella, spike to spike, a curse for a curse.

A duck, a dodge, a defensive hand up. The head must be protected, the eyes from protruding spikes. I jump to avoid a pool of muddy water only to collide head-on with a massive umbrella. Another blow from my left leave my ear ringing, but only a glimpse I catch of the skeletal umbrella quickly swallowed up by the crowd.

The rain fall harder. The urgency increase. The panic, the urgency, the chaos, the desperation. The war builds in intensity. A shriek, a curse somewhere in the harassed throng. Another casualty of the ongoing war- the umbrella wars! Umbrella to umbrella to umbrella to umbrella to umbrella.

A war for survival, supremacy. A defensive war against the rains. A war of unintended casualties.

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There's more where that came from!