The
umbrella woman’s job is to take you from one point to the other without getting
you wet in the rain. You pay her a pittance for this service. She always
carries three umbrellas hooked on one arm and only appears when the sky looks
ready to cry. More often than not, her presence foretells the rain. Whenever
you see her lounging around the corner of your apartment building, you know
that it’s time to bring the laundry in.
It
is an easy job, but not a lot of people want to do it. The rain is the main reason
why. It is a fickle deity—it teases, delivers, withholds, spends, and rages on,
yet ultimately always stops. The rain is the friend and enemy. The rain
provides and takes away. The rain pours for one day and ceases for two weeks. The
rain keeps the umbrella woman alive while slowly killing her.
Besides,
being an umbrella woman is not by choice.
