You are tired after a hard day's work. Yet there is no respite. Wearily you embark on your long commute home. The bus trudges on. Like it is dragging its feet. Seeming to be more tired than you are.
The light is fast fading outside. A big dark cloud hangs in the air. But you have been deceived before. And you won't fall for it again. You feel you are smart enough to call the bluff.
The phone beeps. Message from a dear friend. She is concerned. A rant from some time back is thought by her to signify some sadness within you. She wants to share your story. Make you feel better. Just then on the big window at which you are sitting drops the first big drop. It trickles down along the glass. Pitter patter. Some more drops. Very soon the downpour has began.
You've been bluffed again. But you are happy to lose. You smile. On the inside. In the window you see your half reflected image. Its an image of a man smiling on the outside.
You want to get out of the bus. On to the street. Embrace the heavenly shower. Tightly. So it can never go. Collect the rain in your arms. But you will wait till your stop comes. So you can walk home. Getting drenched.
As you get up from your seat a co-passenger stands up too. You both are united by a common destination. She smiles at you. You smile back. The bus just made a weird noise. And the lips curve only to exchange the bemusement of a shared experience.
You get off the bus. You stare up at the sky. The rain wets your face. You are laughing now. Within. Getting wet. Feeling gay. Some stories need no sharing. Some do. Your walk back in the pouring rain is a story you want to tell.
