For a whole week I fretted.
Every time I sat at my terrace and happened to look up, I
apologized. Was it necessary? Could it
not wait—another week, a month, a year? The questions of the guilty.
But in the end, with the rain clouds darkening the blue
summer skies, it had to be done. There
was no telling the extent of the damage that could be caused in the event of a
strong typhoon.
