Today on Gran Canaria, it rained something fierce.
Blouses and trousers shook on the clothes lines and were left sodden, stretched and hanging.
I prayed for them not to break loose and fly away. Knickers would be strewn across the pavement, bras caught on flag poles next to a sea of red and yellow and socks crouching in dirt-ridden gutters. Thankfully the pegs stood strong.
Children came to school with giant overcoats and umbrellas, ready for an indoor break time and the rescheduling of after-school stuff. They said their match was cancelled, so why wasn’t English?
I couldn’t really explain why.