The Umbrella

Emiley Kim

World Lit Honors

Bennett

24 April 2015

The Umbrella

Incessantly tapping his square-toed leather shoe, Matthew tightened his grip on his briefcase. Around him, commuters gathered in front of the crosswalk, all impatiently waiting for the crossing signal to change from the red hand to the white walking man.

A scruffy, old, gray-haired man stopped a few commuters away from Matthew. The man glanced left and right as he fidgeted in place but eventually settled down, his shoulders slumped. More and more people slowed to a stop and bumped into the old man as if he was invisible.

Matthew hardly noticed his surroundings as he glanced down at his Rolex. Any second now…, he thought to himself as his foot started tapping faster and faster. The crowd grew and jostled the old man in Matthew’s direction. The man tried to stand his ground, but within a matter of seconds, his arm was only inches away from Matthew’s leather briefcase.

Above the throng of commuters, dark gray clouds unfurled their arms and suffocated the city skyline with their tight embrace. Preoccupied with their phones, none of the pedestrians noticed the shadows that the clouds cast on their shoulders. A clean cut young man walked towards the crowd with his head down as he used one hand to send rapid-fire texts to a girl he met at a bar and held a coffee to-go in the other. Oblivious to the crowd, he crashed into a lady dressed in a pinstripe suit, sending waves through the swarm of pedestrians and caused the unkempt old man to elbow Matthew. The man mumbled his apologies while Matthew pulled his lips into a tight smile and curtly replied, “It’s fine.”

Matthew checked the time again and fat raindrops began to fall onto the face of his watch. As he looked up at the brewing clouds and squinted at the last rays of sun that were being swallowed by the clouds, he rummaged in his briefcase to pull out his plum-colored umbrella. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The rain never bothered Matthew. In fact, the rainy weather was the reason why he moved here--the smell of it on city concrete always soothed him. All around, umbrellas blossomed and raindrops began dancing off the surfaces. Slowly, Matthew opened his umbrella and began humming Singing in the Rain.

I’m singing in the rain, just singin’ in the rain… Large puddles began forming at Matthew’s feet and reflected his tall figure back at him. Raindrops splashed on his visage and made ripples across the surface of the puddle.

I'm happy again, I'm laughing at clouds, so dark up above…

The scruffy old man dressed in threadbare clothes futilely held his calloused hands above his head as the rain turned from a drizzle to showers. He tried his best to form an umbrella out of his large, leathery hands, but it was no use. The rain beat down on him from all directions and not a single part of his body was safe from the assault. The raindrops turned into teardrops as they coalesced in the corners of his eyes and streamed down his tanned cheeks. Large puddles formed at the old man’s feet and reflected his slouched figure back at him. He felt the water seep through the thin cloth of his shoe and soaking his toes. He grunted in discomfort and caught Matthew’s attention.

Matthew looked over and smiled politely, trying to hide his contempt for the man’s sloppy outfit. “Don’t you just love the rain?”

The traffic stopped and the crossing signal changed. Matthew continued his commute.