This post is approximately 400 words.
Some people have a musical soundtrack that plays through their minds as they walk or run. I have this, too, but more often than not, I have narration. My head is filled with the story of what could happen to someone in my situation. Not so long ago, it was a rainy walk to work.
The first sentence is the exact first thing that came into my head as I stepped onto the sidewalk. The rest followed me as I went.
* * * * *
He walked unconcernedly through the rain. The quiet drizzle was a nice respite from the thunderous show of the night before. His umbrella echoed with rhythmic pit-pats as his shoes splashed through puddled evidence of the storm. All-in-all, he told himself, it was a nice change from his usual morning walk to work. A little variation in an otherwise monotonous journey he’d made hundreds of times in the last five years. People ran past with jackets over their heads or briefcases held high, but their attempts to stay dry were in vain. He allowed himself a smile, though it still took an effort to bring it to his lips.
It took a few moments for him to realize – at least, that’s what he would tell himself later when he tried to recall the exact series of events – that the sound of the rain against his umbrella had gone. His feet still splashed in puddles, but it seemed the rain had stopped. He lowered his umbrella, looking around, but still saw others trying to protect themselves against the wet. He stopped, thinking that he must be in some pocket of quiet, the eye of the storm where all was peaceful.
A sudden gale nearly blasted him off his feet, buffeting him and drenching his clothes. He had a momentary glimpse of his tattered umbrella before it disappeared into the gray of the sudden deluge. Then as suddenly as it had hit, it ceased. Again he was in the quiet in the midst of the storm. But it was different this time.
The rain still fell, but it no longer touched him.
* * * * *
I have no idea where this goes. And it doesn’t matter. It’s more fun that way.