Cats and Dogs, and a Raining Man

Today, it is raining cats and dogs, as usual in this city and time of the year. The still warm sea gets angry with the first cold northern winds and breaks into huge cumulonimbus that grows like mountains and pour violently their waters, stolen from the sea, into the uneven sides of the shore. And then, a myriad of torrents appear, going down millinery ramblas flowing into the sea, giving back the precious element that was maliciously stolen from him.

I was in Pg. de Gracia and had to go to work. No umbrella. I lost my umbrellas in Japan. The easy way was to take the Metro. I was at the gates, the last place where I saw her before she left. I crossed the gates and took the left side, the same one she had run along the last time, in a hurry to meet her friends and celebrate her last night in the city. Never was invited. Next station, Fontana. There, the bench where she used to wait for me, empty, soaked by the rain. No trace of her anymore. Not anymore.

Today it is raining, and so am I.