First off, start with the good fortune of heading out to the balcony with cushions that need to be de-cat haired just in time to see the imprint of the first fat drops on the chip-marble paving. Halfheartedly bang the cushions once or twice as you watch and try to determine whether they’re one-offs, or increasing.
Realize it’s the latter, hurry your cushions indoors, then head up to the roof and laundry lines. Yep, big ol’ drops, and coming faster, not the like the light misty rain that you ignored earlier because things weren’t really dry yet and you hoped it would pass (it did).
The urgency comes with the distant roar, louder as it moves towards you. You can see the storm coming and for a moment you are hypnotized by it, getting visibly and audibly closer—it’s pouring there, already, you can see it—each second you stand there gawping, ignoring your goal: getting the towels and assorted garments in dry.
Pull it all down and head for the stairs just as the roar well and fully overtakes you and now the rain is here.
Did you get back inside with most of your laundry mostly dry? Congratulations!
Examine what’s in the basket and drape anything that that might be a little damp or rain-splattered over doors and cupboard handles.
You win laundry.
Nice one :)
haha I love it!