Of the unused umbrella

Four monsoons have passed since it was picked from the supermarket. Whenever the old man predicted rain, it never did. It did rain when it wasn't expected. Thus, remained unused, unscathed. Will this monsoon be of any different? Or is it just that some things are meant to be remain virgin? He sighed.

PS:-
Inspired from Short, Fast and Deadly to write this prose in 420 characters.

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