Rain was expected today.

A blown out engine wasn’t.

I swiped my umbrella up on the way out.

At the bus stop is a lady.

Her hair peppered and face expressionless.

I notice the tremble in the woman’s silhouette.

drenched silhouette.

I watch the heavy rain fall over top of her.

I step closer and bring my hand out.

covering us both.

she remains deathly still, without a hint of gratitude

To her there’s no difference, covered or not

I face the dim street light, and listen to pelts of rain.