It rained

One moment, the sun had scorched the park with its indifferent rays. The next, the skies had opened up the floodgates and let loose a month’s worth of wetness in mere moments. One moment, he had been enjoying a leisurely stroll; the next, he had been running for cover, crowding into an oft overlooked gazebo for shelter

The thing is, he didn’t mind this sudden burst of social interaction. In the face of the weather gods, we are all equal, all distinctions rendered arbitrary

Alas, the moment ended, and the impromptu crowd dissipated. He would have preferred to remain in that temporary state of forced reprieve for a bit longer. Perhaps, he thought, it is the nature of such moments that they end, and can only be fully appreciated in retrospect

It was a disaster. Everything had gone wrong

The main course had caught fire. Quick hands made sure the flames didn’t catch anything else, luckily enough, but what remained was a barely identifiable lump of coal. No amount of fast talk about new recipes could save this one

Worse, the dessert had somehow become a foul noxious brew of indescribable pugnacity, and had to be tossed out before it, too, caught fire. The appetizers, meanwhile, were somehow still mildly damp

Worse still, the guests had arrived early, leaving no room to improvise. The yard was a cavalcade of dear friends and relatives, all smiles and happy greetings

He took a deep breath, and was filled with determination. He deemed that a kitchen miracle would no longer be possible, and readjusted his aim for something more attainable: a revered family memory that would be talked about for generations, with the discomforts of the present moment gradually filed off with each retelling

The timetables were tricky in this part of town this time of year

During ordinary time, buses departed every ten minutes. During summertime, the city imagined demand would be reduced due to vacations and such, and so buses departed every fifteen minutes. In this particular part of town, this made a significant difference. The average time to walk between stops is seven minutes, which means that an unfortunate soul that just missed a bus during ordinary time faced a choice: stand around patiently, or take a one stop walk to have something to do. During summertime, however, this calculation is different; travelers who arrived at a bus stop without having paid too much attention to arrival times, had a 50/50 shot at shaving a couple of minutes off the wait. The longer one thought about it, the worse the odds got

The city did not pay too much heed to this calculus, but local residents thought about it more than they would ever dare to admit