Margarita was right. The rain was coming, and it did. It came with a fury and with granizo. Hail.

The patio I and others huddled under was the perfect spot to see and hear the ferocious show. What was not completely damp, or otherwise weighed down, blew. The lamps swayed. The waitresses gave up on delivering dishes, frantically covered or moved exposed chairs and trash bins.

The storm paused long enough for the deliveries to resume, for the wi-fi to pop back up before the clatter and wind rose again. Lightning in the windows and above us, thunder agonizing all around us, cold but dry, we settled in, making the best of the little shelter we had.

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