centuries

i. rain

the skies were opening up
and the smell of rain not yet gone
when for the first time
i saw her standing alone.
she was fumbling with her umbrella
and cursing loudly
because it refused to close
and she refused to quiet down.
her hair was wet, a
tangled curtain fanning her face
and she was making quite a show
but she seemed oblivious of it.
her deep brown skin shone out dramatically and
amid the grey and monochromatic
tones of the day
she seemed like a bright,
loud splash of colour
so it was hard not to stare
watching her stuggle with her umbrella.
something about her intruiged me,
like a piece of art that one doesn't understand and stares at it
so i began walking up to her
(not quite sure why)
and she turned toward me,
she looked annoyed but she
said nothing.