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Kyra was completely absorbed in her book. It was one of those gripping thrillers where the detective was always one clue behind and everyone seemed suspicious—including the cat.

But just as she turned the page to what promised to be a dramatic reveal, she felt something else stirring: the sun. It was blazing. Her jeans were practically turning into denim radiators.

Without a word, she sighed, marked her page with her finger, stood up, and calmly placed the book on the nearby plastic table like a librarian about to do something slightly illegal.

Then, with the determination of someone who had definitely done this before, she strolled over to the outdoor shower, turned the handle, and let the refreshment begin.

Water streamed down her jeans and jacket, soaking everything with a splashy vengeance. She stood there, stone-faced, like a fashion-forward statue honoring “Women Who Regret Wearing Denim in July.”

Finally cooled down, she returned to her seat—dripping but satisfied—and picked up her book again, right where she left off.

Because no plot twist in fiction could ever compete with starting a shower fully dressed on a sunny day.