Cliche-like the fine drizzle soaked into her hair, beads of water immediately flattening, disappearing into her general miasma of misery. She stood. Waited. In the distance the lights flickered. On. Off. On. Off. On. She watched disinterestedly, as the rain made halos round them. The lights grew brighter, brighter still. Died. The sudden dark made the noises round her seem louder somehow. A twig snapped behind her and she flinched, instinctively whirling round, hand to her bag. Defensive. The rabbit that appeared from the hedgerow looked as surprised as she.
The drizzle turned to rain and was now falling continuously. Now she could barely see out through the wet curtain of her hair. Her coat provided no protection - the layers of drenched wool giving of an acrid aroma of stale cigarettes, reminding her of empty bars and empty days.
Ominous rumble. Flash. Rumble. The street lights back on now. The rumble grew nearer. Nearer still. She looked skywards.
Beep, beep, beep. Loud. Impatient.
"Do you want to catch the bus or not?"
Randomeanderings: Useful and useless things, random assorted ideas and general waffle
Randomeanderings: Useful and useless things, random assorted ideas and general waffle
- clinestar
- Part time poet, full time librarian, student of the delights of milk chocolate. Likes books, milk, paddling, poetry, scribbling, chocolate, notebooks, sea, piers. Not necessarily in that order. All work copyright cih.