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Rain
by Steve Anderson
SGAcreative.com
(c) 1995-2005, Steve
Anderson, Writer@SGAcreative.com
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He stepped under the awning and reached into his briefcase for his umbrella, and swore. It wasn't
there.
He realized at once what had happened. He'd set it out to dry after the last heavy rain,
and just never gotten around to putting it back in his briefcase where it belonged. And now it was pouring
and the umbrella was still on the floor of his apartment.
Scowling and trying to cover his head
with his newspaper, he scurried ahead, grimacing as the cold water ran inside the cuff of the raised
arm of his jacket. Gradually, his scurry became a trudge, and the blocks moved slowly and soggily by.
At last he approached his destination, the subway station entrance, and for once, he actually looked
forward to getting down into its dingy, filthy bowels--at least there wasn't any rain down there.
He started down the steps almost happily, and then paused, his attention drawn by a sound that seemed
strange in the context of muttered oaths, car-horns, and the rest of the noises of the city: joyful song.
Curious, he looked up to see a young woman, a picture of joy and radiant youth, dancing in the rain,
arms held out and eyes directed up into the face of the storm. And suddenly, he wasn't half so upset
anymore. The rain was actually beautiful, a piece of nature in the midst of the artificial urban landscape.
Watching the woman dance, he thought of the beauty and wonder that could always be found here in the
city--and if here, then anywhere.
His heart filled with joy as he watched her dance and sing,
and he stood still on the steps, ignoring the frustrated pedestrians forced to go around him, seeing
only the woman who had changed his mind. He watched her dance away down the street, soaked and glad
of it, and after a moment, he actually found himself walking back up the steps, intending to run after
her and thank her for what she had done for his heart, for his soul.
But as he reached the surface,
a passing car crunched through a pothole and threw up a wall of rancid water, coating him from head to
toe with the putrid slime, and the spell was suddenly broken. He looked up and saw her turning the corner,
passing out of his sight, and he muttered a single short, bitter word before turning again to slosh back
down into the subway: "Kids."
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