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Weekly Contest #363
In the old, nomadic Hungarian mythology, when one stood in the rain, it was believed to wash away all the pain and sorrow plaguing the soul. That is why he decided to walk. At least that is the reason he kept saying, over and over as an umbrella passed him once in a while. His thick hair absorbed the punches of the hail, like a haystack — quite stupid if you asked him. The raindrops blurred his glasses, but he could still identify one of his 'friends' rounding a corner ahead of him, heading directly for him. What?! No, he can't see him now! ...
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