A few weeks ago during one of Sydney’s unrelenting rainstorms, I stopped at a pharmacy and bought an umbrella. I rationalised spending more on what I assumed was a higher quality one because that way I’d be less likely to lose it. It was compact but felt sturdy, like it would never be flipped inside out by the wind, and had a satisfying amount of power when I pressed the button to open it.
I used it for a few days until the rain stopped. Then, when the rain resumed, I went looking for it and it was nowhere to be found. As if to taunt me, its sleeve turned up empty in one of my handbags.
