Inspired by a quote from Young&Twenty:
“It’s not that you want a life without rain,
you just want to know you’re not the only one getting wet.”
I’m usually an essay writer and I loved the message in this quote, but I wanted to show it visually. So I wrote a piece of original fiction to show a subtle moment of realization, a quiet understanding that you’re not really alone no matter how bad things may seem. There are people out there drenched in the rain, but overcoming it and there are people learning every day from their strength.
The handle of the umbrella was slick between her fingers, sliding from her grip in the blustering downpour. It clattered the to the pavement at her feet, handle side up, one half smeared with the mud of a sodden plant bed. She looked down at it, the rain soaking the collar of her winter coat, her scarf, her hair. She blinked droplets from her eyelashes, feeling them spill down her cheeks and dampen her lips.
A pair of boots stops on the other side of her umbrella, followed by a hand and a rain-drenched head of hair. She watches as a boy takes a firm grip on the handle, lifting the umbrella up off the ground. A quick shake removes the mud, a mere moment passes before it’s held out to her again. When she doesn’t reach for it he steps closer, holding the umbrella over her head to block the rain.
She looks up to a curious face, a half-smile on a miserable day. She takes the handle in both hands, gripping it tightly against the wind. He backs away, stepping out from under the umbrella’s protection. A half wave of his hand, another half-smile, and he’s off again, his back to her as he continues down the road. He’s drenched from head to toe, rain soaking his clothes, but he doesn’t stop or look back; he just keeps moving forward.
She watches him go, shaking the water from her eyes and the smile from her face, until her numb toes and damp socks push her on, again. One step at a time, one foot further, the rain finally easing up along the way.