Caught

I don’t have a waterproof coat,

and quickly it goes from cloudy to torrential,

rain sweeping across the sky in

thick panels.

Cold comes in from the ocean.

My cheek stings.

I wedge myself between

two lopsided beach huts

to keep dry

and look up

only when a pair of Hunter wellies

comes to a halt in front of me.

A girl with a silky Labrador frowns down.

The dog’s tail wags,

flicks rain.

Water drips from the hem of the girl’s hood.

Are you hurt? she asks.

What happened to your face?

Just got caught in the rain, I say.