Her skirt was getting wet!

(chapter originally by doragom333 on writing.com)

Marie's wiping grew faster and panicked the more the rainwater came in. Though she was pushing a lot of the water off the counter, it was like trying to push back the ocean at the beach. Every part she removed was soon replaced, and the puddles began to combine. Stubbornly she continued to rail against the tide, but all too quickly-

"EEE! Eurgh..." she grimaced.

-the water slid through, pooling around her spot completely.

Sitting here wasn't going to help anymore, and running out into this storm was ludicrous. It was a tight spot, but Marie was all out of options. Carefully, she climbed up onto the counter, almost slipping on the narrow space with her feet, and propped herself up there grasping the awning flaps in front of her for support.

In her new position, leaning out over the counter space, Marie's head and torso were protected from the rain, at least. But as for everything else... Her stockings were torn off and no doubt blown away into oblivion by now, her boots were drowning in the torrent beneath her, her gloves were drenched and freezing her hands, her entire butt just got soaked, she was cold and shivering and starting to get hungry, and lastly, in her current position, there was no way to stop the wind from picking up her skirt and showing off her panties completely to any, thankfully nonexistent, bystanders. And to add insult to injury, she couldn't even write down the perfect poetry phrase that just popped into her head due to this situation, without ruining her notebook and everything.

"Grr... This freaking sucks!" Marie yelled. "Stupid storm! Why'd you have to come along and ruin an okay day like this? And Junes, why have an outdoor stand if it doesn't keep out the rain? And you, you dumb skirt!" she glared at the billowing plaid fabric around her waist. "You can't stay down in even a little breeze like this? You might as well not even be here! Argh!"

It did occur to Marie by this point that she should just cut her losses and head for Junes right now, but she was too furious to care by this point. After all, how would going inside help at this point? She'd still be just as soaked, and there would be people inside, all too willing to stare at the bare-legged girl with the funny clothes and the short skirt. In that case, she'd rather just wait right there and get a front row seat to the rain crashing down, and get someplace warm once the storm died down a little.

Still, Marie probably should have swallowed her pride and ran towards Junes, because the wind decided to pick up even further. As the furious gale battered on through-