REVELS, RAIN, AND RAVIOLI

I’m stuck in the car again, while the thunderous rain hammers the darling buds of May into the ground. I know, I do this a lot.

It is chucking it down. It’s as though a thousand tiny soldiers are pelting the roof and the windscreen. And it’s relentless.

I bought a packet of Revels to enjoy in the park. They’re sitting here next to me, next to a tin of ravioli, and half-a-dozen eggs. This is my survival ration then, should the torrent continue: ravioli, Revels, and six raw eggs, just metres from my front door.

I wonder what would happen if it keeps raining like this? Would it eventually start to seep up over the tyres, into the footwell, up to the seats? I wonder if my last few moments here would be spent wishing I’d brought a tin opener, and then lamenting the number of coffee flavoured ones they put in a bag of Revels when they distribute them in the factory. It’s an outr...glug, glug.

The rain is sweeping now. It splashes in giant circles across the glass and roars against the metal roof of my car. It’s deafening. It reminds of camps, long ago, when the downpour pummelled the canvas of our tents, and we all sat inside, feeling both warm and cold all at the same time.

“The flavourings used in this product are sourced from natural sources,” I find myself reading aloud from the side of the can. ‘Sourced from natural sources’ indeed; can you source from anywhere other than a source? That would have failed my technical writing proof reading test before the label had reached the printer, I’d wager. But I don’t document cans of ravioli. It’s probably just as well.

I don’t think those Revels will make it to the park tonight. It’ll be super-soggy out there. Some other sunset for the Revels, I reckon. Meanwhile, my own choice is, as always, either to make a courageous dash for it, and get wetter than a clumsy Noah, or, to stay here and wait it out - which so far is only delaying the obvious. Say what you like, that is quite the metaphor, isn’t it?

“Ingredients: 7% cheese filling.” That’s ominous. Why not just ‘cheese’?

I don’t want to over-think that question.

I reckon it’s time to grab my things and make a mad run for it.