Water drips from my hair, my cheek, and the end of my nose. Where’s my umbrella?
“Why do you walk so far?” Marie asks. Then she blurts out, “Parking’s available closer to the office.”
Should I tell her? Or will it create a moment of: I can hear a paper clip hit the carpeting on the other side of the floor?
My friend slipped off a stool. It wasn’t a bungee jumping incident or skydiving accident. She’s short, and wanted to get oregano from the top shelf.
“It’s a good form of exercise,” I say.