Reflections of the City Rain

The rain washed over the neon signs, turning the city into a kaleidoscope of liquid light. I stood still amidst the blur, my trench coat buttoned against the chill but open enough to let the night breathe around me. There was no need to rush back inside; sometimes love finds you only when you stop running.

The reflection on the wet pavement showed everything clearly: a woman comfortable in her own skin, unbothered by the crowd that moved past like ghosts. I didn't call out for anyone. The warmth of my boots and the quiet hum of the electric signs were company enough. If he meant to find me today, let him walk through this rain until he found his way here.

Editor: The Tea Room