Cronicle of a Death Foretold

Hi again, my beloved readers! How are you doing? So cold lately, isn't it?

The other day I was wandering the streets at night while a heavy rain was pouring down, (which I love since I'm a genuine English man) and then, just when I found myself all alone in a street I realized I was surrounded by corpses... Yes, people... Corpses! Not human corpses, of course... That would have been more curious and disturbing, don't you think?

Well, the thing is, I was completely surrounded by broken umbrellas. And then I thought it was a sad end for such an useful and classy complement. An umbrella is a typical thing people doesn't buy by themselves... You most probably receive an umbrella as a gift given by someone that loves you enough to worry about you getting wet when rain starts to fall. Unless, of course, it's raining already. Then hords of ambulant umbrella-sellers emerge from who-knows-where and try to sell cheap awful umbrellas to absent-mindedness wet people.


But, wherever an umbrella comes, all of them are damned if they collapse in the middle of the streets, because all of them are buried in the same way: no burial! Busted umbrellas lie everywhere, the luckiest in a garbage bin. Of course, when an umbrella breaks people worry more about getting wet than giving their silent friends a decent burial. I've always thought -in a funny way- about burning broken umbrellas, like Vikings did with their deceased people, sailing a Drakkar on fire for the last time... And dust to dust, ashes to ashes!

So, before throwing an umbrella in the middle of a wet street consider being a little bit more considered! Requiescat in Pace, broken umbrellas around the World!