they walk with the most gracious ease, ignoring the pelting rain.
their suit pants remain dry, hiding under their shelter at just the right angle.
they keep up the pace with the rest of the crowd, oblivious to the chaos around them.
their umbrella's quickly put down through the tunnel, and popped up outdoors;
this is a regular day for them.
i stand on the platform, saturated from head to toe.
my umbrella flaps about the wind, completely unproductive to cover me from the rain.
my boots are soaked through, clearly not compliant with the 'waterproof' label I bought them for.
i poke people in the arm whilst trying to put down my umbrella
and manage to get caught in it trying to put it up.
i look like a moron incapable of dealing with this hideous weather,
clearly not accustomed to a cyclone every morning.
i laugh and squeal like a child, wanting to jump in the puddles that line the 'non guttered' roads.
it's mental and constant - the usual weather pattern of london winter.
i am a novice and that's ok...because I know that this time next week,
i'll be in Australian sunshine again.
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