At this moment in time
the rain seems to never stop pouring down.
The cold air was making my knees hurt
and puddles of water starts sinking into my shoes.
The umbrella starts to droop on top of my head like a hat
and the wind blows it forwards and backwards.
I looked down at my feet and felt the squish of soaked shoes and socks,
not comfortable whatsoever.
Waiting now by a traffic light,
embarrassed.
The umbrella wasn’t an umbrella anymore,
it was more of a metal stick with flabby fabric
or a thin blanket on my head.
Walking across the road with my head down
not wanting to see the faces in the car
I pass hurriedly.
And only now does the rain stop.
