Umbrellas

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about a rainy afternoon, written in a calm afternoon.

Submitted: May 09, 2017

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Submitted: May 09, 2017

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It was a rainy sunset. The orange sky was being covered by dark clouds, as if the Earth itself was getting under heavy blankets. The traffic was heavy on the streets: no one would simply give up going back home early, even under the torrential rain. The umbrellas danced down below. All sorts of colors and drawings, they were like flowers on a grey field. I did not have one. I thought it would have been futile to carry such object in a day like today. I’m wet as a consequence of my early morning decision. It’s not like one knows how things will turn out at the end of the day. It is not uncommon to begin full of expectations and hopes, just to see a completely unexpected path unfold in front of you. The dismissed umbrella, the choice of light clothes and open shoes reflect the promise of a hot sunny day, only to be crushed by the upcoming storm no one was able to predict. And maybe the signs were all there, in places where we do not wish to look. In the dark corners, under the carpets, deep inside our closets, mixed with those old things we no longer use. We choose to ignore them, to forget, until they seem to no longer exist. Yet their consequences will show one day. And when it comes, we will always ask ourselves “Why is it raining? Why didn’t I bring an umbrella? Why?”. That’s when we look back, in order to understand, to grasp the meaning of the storm. Some realize the past mistakes, some uncover the still dusty floor, some even have the courage to sweep it after all this time. Others, however, get lost in the memories and end up filled to the brim with regrets. Those always say “if only…” and torment themselves with ideas too late to be put into action. If only I had left the house with the usual sneakers. Not all is lost, though; there are always those who will lend us a coat, a spare umbrella or even offer us a ride. There are always people trying to help. They usually don’t understand. We received help today, but what about tomorrow? What about all the other days we will leave the house in light clothes? They won’t always be there; their help today does not solve the problem. The dark corners are still there, creeping up on us, waiting patiently for their time to come, for the bubble to burst. They and their help are the unnecessary light of hope that will only further hinder our perception of the darkness. It will only make things more painful. I’m shivering now. One of my heels is broken and I stand bare feet on the cold floor. I grasp at the oversized coat with my numbing fingers. I feel the wind on my hair and bare legs. It is surprisingly uplifting. After all the wrong choices of the day, it is somehow liberating. I open my arms to embrace it and I wish it could take me away to an unknown magical land. People may think I’m crazy for standing like that under the heavy rain. I don’t care anymore. I no longer feel the cold stone beneath my feet, the wind has gotten stronger and I know I’m smiling. Thud.


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