Crawling through the tunnel, the metro sneaks up the side of the hill so slowly I can almost hear the whisper of, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." Meanwhile, I'm thinking how I can't keep my balance on my seat, which is tipped forward so ridiculously by the slope of the hill. With no immediate prospect of even-ing out, I hope the metro gets up to speed quickly, because I'm nearly falling on one-third of my youth group: namely, Amanda. Abigail is sitting next to me, nearly falling on the poor french boy who plopped massive headphones over his ears to avoid the chattering of three english-speaking teenage girls. (it's a small youth group)
The tunnel ends, but the metro keeps crawling. "It's really dark," says Abigail. "It's like, 4 - isn't it supposed to get dark around eight?" Checks watch. "Oh no! It's 4:20!"
"But church starts in like ten minutes!"
"We left on time!"
"And it's a fifteen minute walk from the metro stop."
Then, after exchanging looks of mild distress, we continue talking about our summer plans, and the metro picks up its pace after the hill starts to even out.
We get to the metro stop at 4:25. We see immediately why it's so dark.
Rain, authors, torrents and torrents of rain. Distress grows. "Um... did anyone bring an umbrella?"
Only Abigail, and it's tiny. And keeps breaking.
Normally, you understand, we'd wait at the metro stop for the storm to pass, because Lyon storms are generally less than 5 minutes long (this one ended up being half an hour.)
But we were late to church.
"You ready?" I ask, looking at the rain with half dread, half love.
They shake their heads no, and we dart out into the storm. Dancing/singing in the rain ensues.
We arrive at church at 4:35.
Head directly past assembly into the bathrooms. Arrange hair/try to dry off an itsy bit. Give up.
Arrive in assembly at 4:40, just as the pastor is saying, "Everyone stand and greet your neighbor."
Stand dripping in the back of the church as congregation (all fifty of them -we're not exactly a big church) laughs, and children point fingers. One child runs back to Abigail and jumps into her dripping arms, much to his mother's distress.
Sermon goes on, with the entire youth group (of three) dripping and shivering in the back row.
Bibles are soaked.
Sneezes are interrupting the sermon.
Great day. :D
Normally I try not to put to much of non-writing stuff here, but it was such an awesome day. And I have no writing news to say - except I rewrote one of the scenes that wasn't working on sequel #2, and now it's all pretty(er) and stuff!
HAVE AN AWESOME MONDAY!!! :D