The Bloody Doors Off

There’s a moment in my play where I theorize that when it comes to inclement weather, there are two kinds of people: those who stomp in the puddle (using an invisible game of hop scotch), and those who huddle the umbrella. One character accuses the other of being the latter.

I used to jump in puddles. Now I’m in danger of shivering under shelter, waiting for the rain to stop.

I don’t like that idea.

I need to change it.