The Yellow Umbrella

The young woman purchased her yellow umbrella when most people do, once it began raining. It was a clear, sunny summer day in Amsterdam. She had been walking towards Vondel Park for a lazy Sunday afternoon, intending to find a place to read. Perhaps she would lie beneath a large oak or alongside one of the canals. She felt a drop. Followed by another, and another. She looked up. The sun was still shining. A girlish smile widened across her face. A sunshower! The shower persisted, eventually washing out the sun in its entirety. She was becoming uncomfortably wet, like a cat forced to endure a bath. The fields would be too damp for her to lounge on. Her heightened spirit washed away with the very shower that had brought it about. She was considering her options when she came across a storefront. An array of umbrellas were displayed in the window, beckoning her inside. She was closer to the park than home anyways. <a href="https://medium.com/writers-blokke/the-yellow-umbrella-31844ffe71a5">Click Here</a>