When I met him on a rainy afternoon the air smelt like gardenias. My black oxford pumps were soaked from accidentally stepping on a puddle, and the tiny yellow umbrella I held up barely saved me from the chilly rain.
When I met him on a rainy afternoon, the sky was pink and blue. I was starving and almost craving to smell the stuffy scent of my closed up home’s small living room.
When I met him on a rainy afternoon, his son held my feet out of the blue and called me ‘mum’. He rushed out of the restaurant only seconds later, his cheeks a pale flushed hue.
When I met him one day on a rainy afternoon, he looked up into my eyes and apologized. And inside my head, I thought to myself... what a lovely way to meet a lovely man on such a lovely rainy afternoon.