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Sunday, Mar. 03, 2002 - 6:20 p.m.
Washed Out

I thought this was going to be a nice day out. It was, initially. Really Montreal-early-March warm. I was strolling along, popping into stores. It even started to smell a little like spring. There was the scent of renewal in the air.

I was in a store when I noticed that it had started raining. I was prepared, though. I had an umbrella. I walked outside and was perfectly protected. As I approached la Complexe Desjardins, I noticed that the wind was picking up. In fact, the closer I got to it, the windier it was. I was really struggling to keep the umbrella safe lest it get turned inside out and destroyed. I couldn't turn back, not when I was so close. Besides, I couldn't risk turning around and having the wind attack the umbrella. Going forward wasn't very good for the umbrella, either. It was a hurricane now, or so it seemed.

In the movie "Castaway", our hero tries to escape by paddling out to sea, but the further he gets away from the island, the more the waves push him back. This was a little like that. It was as though Boreas and his cronies were offended by the umbrella and wanted to destroy it, kill it. The wind was so fierce that the umbrella was almost closed around my head like a webbed spider. I was almost there. I imagined the group, no, the crowd of people at the entrance urging me and the umbrella on. They wanted me to succeed, and I couldn't let them down. Just a few more steps, but then disaster.

A final gigantic gust of wind attacked the umbrella from below and behind...and annihilated the umbrellla. It was in two pieces. I was left with nothing but a useless stick with a couple of spokes. I heard someone say, "Ah non! La parapluie!" They seemed disappointed. They actually looked a little washed-out in colour. Think of the Disney "Casey at the Bat" where Casey strikes out for the final time. Everything on the screen sort of falls away in rain. For me, that was far sadder than Bambi being orphaned.

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