It wasn't raining quite so seriously this morning but I scooped up my umbrella from outside the front door anyway, locked up, and strode into the drizzle. I'd make it to the bus stop if I walked quickly.
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"I'm sorry I'm late," I said an hour later, finally arriving in a fluster of raincoat and rucksack.
I had missed the bus, and by extension the 'Stress and Resilience Seminar' in the board room at 9am. There was a certain irony about that I thought, as I whirled my laptop into motion.
What had happened was that halfway to the bus stop I noticed a snail crawling its way out of my umbrella.
It was a very ordinary snail: slimy skirts and shiny shell; two antennae waved at me as it twisted its slippery head. For some reason I imagined it peering at me with a monocle and gesturing to me in a posh, sleepy accent.
"I say, dear boy. Would you mind awfully, dropping me off?"
I didn't, and so I did. I crouched by the side of the road, waiting for him to slide off my umbrella into the undergrowth. I don't think he wanted to go, so eventually, I pinched forefinger and thumb around his shell and popped him off into the leaves.
"Why thank you, old bean."
The bus sailed by. The drizzle continued as I waited for the next one.
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