Lunchtime Walk

I walked out of the building. Dark, smelly, no daylight. Glad to be outdoors. Till I saw the weather. Mizzly, drizzly, soaked in minutes. Bank of cloud so low it seemed to brush my forehead. Opened my huge umbrella, gay red and white stripes, the only colour for miles. Walked. Limped. Needed my stick. Rat-a-tat-tat on the ground. Blind Pew on acid. Into the Grange. Dripping money. Dripping trees. Yellow poster on a gate advertising a talk on climate change. No climate change apparent here. A surprising number of old Volkswagen camper vans. Bohemian spirit in the heart of middle-aged, middle-class Edinburgh. Roads covered in speed bumps, one of which nearly took the sump off a Fiat Punto. Breeze drifted rain onto my good suit. Romanian wool, guaranteed to shrink at the sight of water. All in all, not much of a walk, really.