It was a bloody brilliant evening.

(it really wasn’t)

The sky was already mottled like bruised skin with purple clouds that churned with the threat of a storm.

"This is great, really just wonderful", Therese mumbled, fishing in her bag for the retractable umbrella she kept for emergencies. Of course, as destiny would permit, the damn thing wasn’t even there.

Therese, in a last resort to save her frizzy curls from further disrepair, gathered the ends and stuffed them into the collar of her blazer with a grunt of irritation.

Somewhere not far off enough, a rumbling groan filled the air, the sound reverberating against the plexiglass walls of the bus stop. The red bench at the stop was already filled with people and so Therese was forced to stand, squeezing her body into the roofed space in case that storm ever decided to come. Unfortunately, though, the #28 Kensington bus stop was so full that Therese was left teetering on the edge of the plexiglass haven, her body exposed to the elements.

Fumbling in her handbag, one eye keenly traced on the suspiciously fidgety man standing close by, Therese searched for her phone.

When her hand closed around the cool black surface a sigh of relief escaped her lips. Good news at last, she hadn’t left her phone in her office again.

But that relief was short lived when she realized that her blessed phone was out of battery. As in dead. As in the screen wouldn’t even light up for a split second to show her the time.

Turning to the bench of waiting passengers, Therese scanned their faces for the least reactive looking person.

(Because most people taking the last bus of the evening were usually not in the mood for conversation, even if it was short).

She finally decided that the pregnant looking woman with thin blond hair pulled tight against her scalp was an okay enough solution to her problems.

Therese cleared her throat and in the friendliest way she could muster, asked:

"You wouldn’t happen to know the time would you, miss?"

The woman who was supposed to be the friendliness of the lot looked Therese up and down before shaking her head and turning away.

Anger flared quickly at the quick dismissal and Therese worked hard to contain the words on the tip of her tongue. The woman didn’t even bother to look at the phone in her hands before replying.

Therese glanced down the street, but no sign of a bus was in sight, and she hoped that it was still coming. The bus services were rather unreliable, especially when one didn’t know the exact time it was at the moment and couldn’t decipher how late the bus was.

Therese’s eyes wandered back to the sky anxiously and she was alarmed to see it had gotten impossibly dark, the clouds gathering and dropping as though they were close to splitting.

'It’s okay', Therese tried to reassure herself, 'maybe it won’t rain until I’m safely at my doorstep and-'

But of course, that thought, like most of Therese’s hopeful musings was diligently disrupted by her cruel lack of luck.

A chilling breeze picked up, sending an eruption of bumps across her skin in anticipation. Just then, the first heavy drop of misfortune descended, landing on her cheek with a wet smack.

For likely the umpteenth time today, Therese let out an audible groan of displeasure, ignoring the side eyed peeps of the lucky people who had managed to snag a space under the sheltered roof.

That thunderous rumble from earlier came again, this time so close that the plexiglass walls shook at the sound. The murky skies fissured with silvery light, a sign that the storm was already too close to outrun. The cool air grew even more chilling, and Therese drew her arms tightly around herself to keep herself warm. Oh, how she wished she had listened to the radio this morning and grabbed a jacket on her way out. It’s incredible really, how someone could know how to prepare for something and still choose not to.

'Once I get home, the first thing I’m doing is taking a nice hot bath with a bottle of red, that will make up for the poorness of the day’, Therese thought.

But as suspected, the universe was not done with her just yet.

The intercom at the corner of the ceiling hissed and crackled to life. The scratchy voice that came through was garbled and hard to hear over the oncoming storm, but the message it had was clear, the added fuel to the dumpster fire of a day.

"Sorry for the inconvenience folks, but the #28 Kensington bus has been rerouted due to poor weather conditions. Expect a delay of up to half an hour"