Broken plates of sharp coral clouds slashed at the tree tops. I had just pedaled off the grounds of the Temple of Literature and thought it very dark for 3:30 in the afternoon. Merging whilly-nilly with traffic, the sky darkened steadily. People began to get frantic looking up at the threatening sky while keeping and eye on traffic. People pulled over to pull on rain gear as the first dollops of cold, hard rain fell from the sky. Having left my rain jacket in my hotel there was nothing to do but pull my faded baseball cap down further on my brow and pedal faster. Unfortunately I didn't really know which way to head.
Everything was soaked in an instant and the wind sputtered through the trees and streets before finding its booming voice. Moving in the same direction as the gusts I was carried along, brakes saturated and nearly useless to stop my two-wheeled joyless ride. The frantic calls of warning and danger from he motorbikes echoed my own noiseless state of alarm.
Salvation on the right.
The sudden storm continued to gain ferocity and I needed shelter quickly. Through the curtains of water I could make out the over-sized portico of some modern hotel. It would be cruel of them to deny me solace, wouldn't it, for not being a paying guest? Fingers crossed and cap back tightly in place. I turned off the street and was almost propelled into the plate glass windows of the lobby--a last ditch effort of the winds to keep me in their clutches. I veered off to the right and came to rest in front of the convention hall entrance.
I sat there for thirty minutes watching the clouds cruise by while keeping a hand on my bike to be sure it wasn't sucked back out into the unnatural, inky blackness beyond the ornamental fish pond. A man pulled up on his motorbike with his rain poncho pulled over the windshield to protect some valuable cargo, maybe a TV. He pulled back the plastic sheeting to reveal his son wearing the same poncho, and quite soaked. The rain ended.
Riding back to the hotel, the streets were flooded up to my ankles. Where the road managed to get above the impromptu water line the surface was obscured by layers of slick, green leaves blown from their branches. Tree limbs were scattered about and there was an occasional downed wire. People on the street and sidewalk started to clear the gutters and made wide berth around the power lines. All was restored.
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