The Shepards Warning

… ‘Rain! Rain!’ cried the old Shepard, as he stumbled down into the valley, heading for where the in-crowd gathered every morning beneath gayly coloured silks which fluttered in the morning breeze.

“Oh, heck, here he comes again.” they said. “Doesn’t he know about breathable, water-proof top layers, and sweat-wicking, odour-eating base layers?” They tittered knowingly as they quaffed their coffees made from perfectly heated, whole-cream cows milk, with a dollop of vanilla ice cream and a few drops of caramel.

After the rain, the old Shepard wondered beneath the drab, soggy silks, their colours all blending into each other. There were overturned chairs and fancy rain-coats scattered about among the puddles.