Navy blue clouds had begun swelling a week ago. Finally, thick sheets of rain poured from the sky like water from a punctured balloon. The frozen earth stopped absorbing water. The city rotted. The uneven streets and sidewalks filled with gray mud. Trees blended into the landscape, taking on the faded colors of the houses.
The occasional silent crowd scurried about like electrons—each in a direction known only to them and insignificant to the others. Silence filled the streets. Even those huddled tightly together under an umbrella, so close together they seemed to inhabit separate worlds.
A young woman dressed in a modest navy blue dress ran out of the house across from the municipal laundry. Perhaps in her haste, she had forgotten her coat. A man's head popped out from the same doorway. A moment later, however, it disappeared again. The woman ran a few blocks and stopped. Perhaps she had remembered her coat. Rain streamed down her helplessly drooping arms. Her hair clung to her face. She stared at the bubbles forming on the surface of the puddle.
From the window of the tiny, neglected house, the strange, wrinkled face of an old woman watched her. The girl was surprised by the foolish thought that had just entered her head: "I thought no one lived there." Everyone thought so. Everyone who passed by the low building wondered when they would finally tear down this ruin. The paint was peeling in huge flakes from the walls, and someone had boarded up the windows and stuffed them with old newspapers to replace the broken panes.
And yet.
And yet, someone lived there. And they were watching her now. Or maybe it was just her imagination. She looked again. No one was there anymore.
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