Tuesday, 26 March 2013

i (82% of the time) love the rain

i'm standing in the middle of central, in the pouring rain. i don't like umbrellas — i have never enjoyed carrying them, and to be honest, i (82% of the time) love the rain. there is something about hong kong though, perhaps the millions of people tightly condensed between slabs of concrete at the foot of a very polluted china — that makes the rain 18% not so loved.

this time i am drenched. my shirt is probably see through. my hair is hugging my skin like vines down my neck. i send myself into a trance as i stare past the traffic. slowly i feel the pitter-patter weight lifting off my shoulders. for the briefest moment i think: the rain has stopped. 

i turn to my right. there is a gentlemen (i'm not sure if he actually is, maybe i should just call him a man). there is a man in a navy pinstripe suit. he looks kind and is trying to appear as less creepy as possible manoeuvring his umbrella over me. i say 'thank you'. then quickly smile in case my words drowned before they reached him. he looks straight ahead (that is kind of creepy). then just as the pedestrian lights turn green he tries handing me the umbrella. 'it's okay' i reply, and resume my pace.

the pitter-patter back on my shoulders, but they feel different now.