Rainy Days, Wet Days, Still We Wait
The rain came streaming down. Endless rivulets of water pounded the pavement. The hydrangeas just smiled as they opened their mouths to catch their liquid gold. I sat and sat on my bus. Watching the water condensate on the ceilings and windows. Droplet by droplet they would slow cast themselves down to the floor, by way of my raincoat.
Soothing tunes piped into my ears as I just stared out the window. The world was moving by so slowly in the rain. We would pause at a bus stop and barely anyone would get on or off. People were just lined up waiting. They were waiting for something else. Do we as a people always wait for something else? Are never satisfied with our journey?
There she was, with her umbrella, waiting for the bus that was not mine. Rain falling down from the skies. Standing holding her umbrella and wondering when her bus may come.