It was a gloomy Spring day, and the sky was overcast with threatening clouds. Class had just let out when the rain came. Students scattered about trying desperately to find shelter from the unexpected downpour. Some walked, refusing to run, splashing rebelliously through the quickly-forming puddles.
I soon found myself huddled with two strangers under a make-shift bus stop. I am not sure what the structure was before, but it greatly resembled a gazebo. Here we stood, three strangers, with nothing in common but this moment in time. We all exchanged relieved glances, laughing slightly at the absurdity of the situation and at thankfully finding shelter from this storm burst.
The rain fell rhythmically outside, spattering its soothing music on the resilient concrete. The lush green trees outside the windows of the structure dripped softly with their new-found wealth. and ivy that had snaked up the walls and onto the roof, swayed gently in the slight breeze, creating dark-green rivers that cascaded down the sides of our bus stop. Some of the wooden shingles on the roof were twisted and torn in places, leaving gaping holes, through which rain drops fell unhindered.
Finally, one of the strangers decided to brave the elements. Steering his bicycle through the surrounding foliage, he trekked off as rain pelted his bearded face. As if to be a signal to the rest of us, the stranger got soaked - punishment for daring to stand against the storm. I waited a bit longer, letting the rain quell some of its fury, before I decided to venture in to the sea of floating fingers. As I walked away, I looked back at the lone stranger standing in our bus stop, and smiled to think about three strangers with nothing in common but that moment in time.
