Space

rush... rush. Grabs her purse, almost forgets her hat, damns her heals, reaches for the umbrella, but she stops. rush, out the door, down the stairs, outside on the street.
She knew it was raining, but she figured the station wasn't far and that carrying that thing all day would be annoying. She likes the rain, this rain, because there are many types of rain. It's small and gentle, not very windy, just enough to sprinkle her face with cool drops and make her clothes glitter if by any chance a ray of sun breaks through the clouds. Of course the bus is taking it's time to appear and she finds herself waiting, not for the vehicle, but for an umbrella.
The real reason why she didn't take her umbrella is that she wants to be saved. She knows it's corny and will probably never happen, but she's waiting for him to appear with an object similar to the one she left home and protect her from the rain.
She's just waiting there, daydreaming and, in the same time, analyzing her own whishes for whatever reason. And then is stops raining.
The lady next to her doesn't close her umbrella. Out of impulse she extends her arm further from her body, turns her palm to face the sky and expects to feel nothing, but she can feel the small drops. She looks behind and smiles.