Waiting for the Next Storm

Waiting for the Next Storm

The train station was packed, rain pouring relentlessly outside.

He sighed, eyeing the storm through the glass doors. “Guess I’m stuck here.”

A woman beside him tapped his shoulder, holding out her umbrella. “We can share.”

Surprised, he met her gaze. “Really?”

She shrugged. “I don’t mind the company.”

They walked in step, the rain blurring the city lights around them. Water cascaded from awnings of nameless shops, creating rivers along the cracked sidewalks. Their footsteps splashed in rhythm, an unexpected harmony in the chaos.

By the time they reached his corner, he hesitated beneath a flickering streetlamp. “Can I see you again?”

She smiled, raindrops catching the light on her cheek. “Only if you bring the umbrella next time.”

He watched her disappear into the storm, already planning his next rainy day.