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.