Today, I wanted to wake up to the sound of rain on my window.
To take a warm vanilla scented shower and eat my favourite breakfast: a pile of pancakes with maple syrup and a hot mug of milk and coffee with honey.
Maybe wear that dress that you like and the sweet perfume you’ll fall in love with.
Then I would, conveniently, forget my umbrella on the way out and be forced to run to the train station so as not to miss the train and end up being late for work.
Unfortunately, I’d miss the train even so and end up getting drenched as a result.
Trying to reach in my bag for a handkerchief, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, my panic at not finding any. And while I try to shake off the water in my hands and hair, your hand stretches, big, slender, but mostly dry and you offer me your own handkerchief, with a smile so warm and gentle I forget I’m still late for work.
The train station starts to fill once again and, in between pushes and pulls, I only end up having time to borrow your handkerchief before your face disappears in the middle of the crowd.
I don’t miss the train this time and I don’t see your face until I get off. Sadly, you probably exited at another stop.
That day passes by rather quickly and I find myself on the train once again. This time there are only a few people in the carriage and I fall asleep holding your handkerchief, lulled by the sound of the train moving.
When I open my eyes, I see you sitting across from me looking out the window and I blurt out a sudden high pitched “Hi!”. You quickly turn your face in my direction and the same kind smile makes its way onto your lips before you too say “Hi.” In an amused tone. We both keep staring at each other and I find myself smiling in return. Seconds, minutes pass (I’m not really sure which) and none of us makes any motion to continue the conversation. We almost miss our stop, but we leave the train together and you let me exit first, still in silence.
It starts raining heavily for the second time that day and I look at the sky cursing the fact that I’d have to run back home once again.
You look at me curiously. Then at the umbrella in your hand and before I dash out, you awkwardly ask me if I’d like to have a cup of coffee. Your voice takes me by surprise and before I can stop myself, I breathe out a relieved “Yes.”. Your eyes widen at my answer and the smile follows next. I hesitantly take your arm while you open the umbrella and we exit the station.
You take me home that day, after a wonderful cup of coffee, a lovely dinner and a glass or two of wine, and when we finally reach my doorstep I thank you. I don’t know if for the handkerchief, the umbrella, the kindness or the wonderful night, but you gather I probably mean all of it. And before you leave, with a smile and warmth rare in such cold weather like that, I promise to return your handkerchief tomorrow. You turn around and start walking down the street with a light skip in your step and humming a tune I can’t help but find familiar.
Before you completely leave my sight, you turn around and with an excited wave yell “Goodnight!”.
I spend the rest of the night thinking about the day to come.
Today I wake up, but the sun is shining and there’s no sign of rain.