umbrella

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It's starting to rain, and I'm glad. On a day like this, it should. I look up and imagine sun, and the hollowness within me intensifies. No. On a day like this, it should rain.


I search for him in the crowd of black umbrellas. His is gray; I spot it easily. I increase my pace until I reach him. He's just standing there, at the edge of the brick sidewalk, looking out into the street. I press my front against his back and put my chin on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly and gives a little smile as he says, "Hey."


I don't reply. I simply wrap my arm around him and let our fingers mingle in his coat pocket. He sighs and leans back into me, lightly squeezing my hand. "I'm glad it's raining," he murmurs. "She loved the rain." He pauses, and I press a little kiss into his shoulder. "Here, get under the umbrella. You're getting wet."


I press closer to him, and he keeps holding my hand in his pocket, and we watch the traffic lights reflect off the pavement as the cars roll through the rain.


[Inspired by the icon, found at tumblr.com]

Created: Jan 18, 2011

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emilyspiderman Document Media