Lately, I find myself gazing mindlessly to the rainy street. Counting puddles and matching umbrellas to the colour of people’s hair. Sitting warmly inside a coffee shop. Listening to people saying goodbye and hello and sometimes they say nothing at all.
Watching them preoccupied with their books, making small conversations on their phone, writing and scribbling on small notebooks, or tissue papers. Wondering what keeps them awake at night or if they’re waiting for something or someone to happen.
Wondering if they like to gaze into the rain and watch the streets slowly flooded with memories and melancholy, or if they like the taste of cloudy sunset and the coldness of autumn weather.
Lately, I find myself crying on the sight of people walking under the rain. Only to realise that I’ll have to leave my chair and follow my own path home.