I was walking in the rain. I taste the fresh smelling earth, as a thin rivulet that poured through my hair found its way inside my mouth. Some drops seep into my gritty eyes.
A man was leaning against the railings of the pavement, holding his bicycle with one hand and with the other hand he was struggling to keep the umbrella above his head. He had raised his head to the sky and was laughing at the rain.
Just then a car with bleary headlights splashed past me squirting a spray of muddy waters on my clothes. I keep walking while the rain skirted around my soggy clothes and my feet felt heavy with sodden shoes. A car zooms past again, but I don’t care for the splashes. I am already soaked through my underclothes. The car stops a few feet ahead of me and the door opens.
Someone steps out, covering his head with his palms. The man who comes out is wearing a dark grey suit and red tie and is walking towards me. In the grey dusk his red tie glows like a jewel. I feel sorry for his suit as I watch the rain splash wet blotches on it mercilessly.
In few seconds his tie begin to hang from his throat like a long line of watery blood.
He seems not to care about getting wet and he walks the few furlongs that separate us and stops near me.
He enquires about the direction to a house. I begin to tell him the address, gesticulating in the right direction.
He smiles enigmatically.
And I slowly realise that it was my own home address he was asking about.