On a whim my husband and I decided to ride our bicycles to Shrewsbury. The village was not far – a little over four miles. We would stop for lunch at one of the charming cafes.
It was a lovely Spring day, comfortably warm with a few wisps of clouds. Horses and cows grazed contentedly in the fields. A pond sparkled radiantly in the sunshine. Two swans performed a graceful ballet, their cygnets following closely. An elderly couple cheerfully waved at us as we rode by.
Shrewsbury appeared as we rounded a bend in the road; carefree diners were arriving for lunch. We leaned our bicycles against the fence of a nearby school and walked to a romantic-looking cafe. After a delightful meal we happily strolled to the school to retrieve our bicycles for the ride home.
This was without a doubt the most perfect day we’d ever had!
Without warning the sky started turning grey and the wind began blowing. Arriving at the school we were shocked to discover our bikes were gone; we had no choice but to walk home. Suddenly thunder and lightning crackled in the foreboding sky and heavy rain began pouring down on us. We trudged on, cursing with every step we took.
We were drenched, our shoes covered in mud. Exhausted, we argued terribly about who forgot to bring the bicycle locks. Everything turned into a total disaster and we stopped talking altogether.
This was without a doubt the worst day we’d ever had!