I hear the pattering of the rain trickle against my umbrella.  I’m standing at the street corner waiting for the walking sign.  It’s too busy right now.  The rain came quickly and now the streets are flooding with people running for shelter and hailing for cabs.  I’m just standing… waiting.

A gust of wind billows.  My umbrella swells outward as pieces of paper shower my peripheral.  I turn and see a soaking woman lose control of her umbrella and the stack of papers she’s desperately trying to hold against her chest.  I chivalrously rush to her aid and cover her with my umbrella.  She’s nearly upset and doesn’t much mind me, but still thanks me lightly.  I help her collect the papers off the ground around us, as I try to console her.

The walking sign glows, but were still standing — collecting.  She finally looks up and we make eye contact.  The rain grows silent, yet still splashes.  She mutters, “Hello.”  I only smile.  She thanks me as she takes a step back.  I quickly ask her name.  I then tell her mine.  As she backs away, I give her my umbrella.  She then turns to run across the street.

I hear the pattering of the rain trickle against my umbrella.  I’m standing at the street corner looking at a glowing orange hand.  The street is flooding with people running to gather around.  Pieces of paper fill my peripheral as I see a soaking woman.  I rush to her aid and to console her.  We make eye contact.  I mutter, “Hello?”  She only smiles.  The rain grows silent, yet still splashes.