Church Thrift Store

The Prompt: It was sunny when you left home, so you didn’t take an umbrella. An hour later, you’re caught in a torrential downpour. You run into the first store you can find — it happens to be a dark, slightly shabby antique store, full of old artifacts, books, and dust. The shop’s ancient proprietor walks out of the back room to greet you. Tell us what happens next!

Church Thrift Store

Caught short by the rainy season, I should have known better.
Though I’d left home high and dry, I knew I’d soon be wetter.
Defenseless  in the downpour, I ducked into a store.
Just to get some shelter,  I rushed in through that door.

I felt that I was lucky as this store was full of stuff,
though finding what I needed might be sort of tough.
The store clerk shuffled up to me, though he could barely stand—
an umbrella just as old as him held up in his hand.

Lucky when I chanced upon this ancient wrinkled fella,
he happened to be carrying a really big umbrella!
I opened up my pocket book and located a fiver.
Now I wouldn’t spend this day wet as a scuba diver!

But when I left that thrift store with my practical new find,
I found that I was actually in the same old bind.
For opening up my parasol, I uttered “What the heck?”
As rivulets of water ran down my head and neck.

The purchase I’d just made, I found, would be no help at all.
I hadn’t noticed that the shop was St. Vincent de Paul.
The fault was no one else’s.  I know it was mine, solely.
I should have realized sooner that my purchase would be holy!

(Please note: St. Vincent de Paul is a secondhand store run by the Catholic Church.)

14 thoughts on “Church Thrift Store

  1. Pingback: Daily Prompt: Sudden Downpour | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice

    1. grieflessons Post author

      Fortunately, that was an imaginary umbrella anyway, although the umbrella given as a wedding present to my husband and me 27 years ago just bit the dust. A strange gift that presaged our honeymoon. It rained every day!!! Should have written a poem about that. Thanks for reading and commenting, Mati. I hope you come back. Judy


  2. Pingback: Sudden Downpour | Keyboard Pizza

    1. grieflessons Post author

      Ha! Sometimes our words just carry us along with them. I don’t always know how I feel or what I think or know before I write. Thanks for responding, Viki…Judy


  3. Ann O'Neal Garcia

    Thanks, sweets. I didn’t want to say on Face Book, but I think I’d had a bit to drink. Now I hardly ever drink and guess what? I don’t pick up markers, crayolas, etc as much. The horse might be from my darker side (which can be delightful and thank you)…who knows??? By the way, I do love your drawing. The one of the room with all the projects sitting around while you lay in bed…I was crazy about that one. Do you know Lynda Barry? Oh, please get some of her books if you haven’t yet met her. Graphic cartoon artist –her stories are most poignant and real plus funny as hell. Marlys book is in my opinion her very best, but they’re all great. She also did a how-to-write book which is excellent, and Carolyn went to her class and said it was worth 10 times what Lynda Barry charged. I’m sorry. This is too much about moi.


    1. grieflessons Post author

      I do know her work from Funny Times and I think she had a place in the comic pages in the San Fran Chronicle or the Santa Cruz Sentinel as well. I loved Marlys! Why apologize for writing about yourself? You’ve read hundreds of pages of me talking about myself! It’s what we are experts in. Talk on…



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