She stands by a window
Rain, rain, rain dripping down the glass
It blurs her vision
It blurs her senses
He sits against a graffiti-covered wall
Rain, rain, rain falling into his lap
And into his hair
And into his eyes
She walks down an alley
Bag slung over her shoulder
Hair swept to one side
Shoes clicking on the pavement
He walks through the darkness
Eyes open
Heart beating
But is it?
The bag drops
The shoes stop
The hair falls around her face
It isn’t. It isn’t.