Writing: Blue Umbrella [short story, G]
A sappy story I wrote one sleepless night in 2004.
Blue Umbrella
She stood on the cement steps, listening to the big droplets splatter upon her blue umbrella. Slow but hurried cars splashed by on the small street, streams of water dancing in their wake. Her eyes closed as the chilly tears of heaven ran down her legs, into her sandals.
"Miss?" inquired the security guard. "Miss, I'm closing the gates now."
She nodded lightly and started down the steps. The polished cement was extra slippery under her feet as she half slid, half walked away from the building. The big blue umbrella waved carelessly in her hand, and she was lightly soaked by the pouring rain. It's such a big, silly thing, she thought. She loved the rain, and had no interest in the functional qualities of her umbrella. But still she held it, every time it rained. She smiled at it, and skipped gently over the small puddles on the sidewalk. She glanced up at the darkening sky and remembered an evening such as this.
That day, the rain had poured down hard, like it was just then. Her eyes had been half-closed, the lashes blotted with tiny droplets, her denim jacket soaked through, and she stomped on happily through the storm. There he was around the corner, as if waiting for her, although she knew he wasn't, because he had sighed softly and just started to take a step before she had appeared.
"Charlotte," he had broke his stride and called from under his big blue umbrella. He always had the easy grin of a young man, with his bookbag slung lazily over his shoulder, as if nothing in the world could ever hurt him. And that's just what he was in her eyes, invincible.
"Hello, Alex," she smiled at him, wiping away some stray hair plastered to her face by the rain. She was slightly embarrassed to see him in such a state as she was, but the thought was quickly nudged from her mind. After all, they've seen each other through worse, and she wasn't out to impress him. Alex was a very handsome boy and had many girls chasing after him, but he was always just her best friend; her big brother. Someone who would protect her if anyone dared to pick on her. "Just off from practice?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, and then laughed with just a hint of a smirk, "but look at you! I haven't seen you in such a state since you fell into our pool at my eighth birthday party, trying to carry the cake."
"Oh, thank you very much for bringing up that delightful incident," Charlotte frowned, and sighed. "As I recall, you rescued me from that horrid overly chlorinated deathtrap and made s'mores for everyone instead."
"And as I shall come to your rescue now, my fair princess," he flourished an imaginary cape and bowed with an exaggerated sweep of his free arm, then held the umbrella over her head. "Shall I walk you home?"
"I thank you, good Sir Alex," she had grinned at the nickname she had once called him, years ago, playing knights-and-princesses. "You know, I haven't seen you very much lately."
"Ah... I've been a bit busy. My last year on the team, and all. Besides, everyone's been busier this year. With the entrance exams and college applications, you know," he babbled. It wasn't like him to babble. Charlotte eyed him curiously, and nodded.
They had walked on in silence through the small streets, canopied under large, old oak trees. They turned half a dozen street corners or more, and finally strolled down a small path off of the main street. It wasn't a wide path, and the two of them could barely fit on it, so Charlotte walked ahead, with a protective arm at her back. They stopped at the porch of her house. Alex folded the umbrella and put in on the white wooden porch-swing, and gave her a light hug. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but just smiled and waved goodbye. Charlotte stood, somewhat perplexed by his strange behaviour, and had stared at his retreating figure for quite a while before she glanced at the swing and called out.
"Wait! Alex, you forgot your umbrella!" She grabbed it and ran towards him, but he just smiled and shook his head.
"Keep it," he had said simply, wiping away the rain on her face. "I don't want you to get all wet again."
Soon after graduation, not a month after their meeting, she learned that he had flown away to study overseas. She wrote to him, and kept his letters in her drawer. She often wondered if it would be the same, when your friends have gone away all over the world, coming back only for summer vacation. And he didn't even come back for that. He said that it was a waste of money, which would be better used to pay for his hefty tuition fees. She had hung up his umbrella in her room, facing the window, so it would know when it would be needed. She would've had to have finally fallen in love with him, she decided, to do such a silly thing.
She laughed at herself for being so ridiculous, as she walked now, with his big blue umbrella down those same streets. It's been four years, she told herself. He would not be back for a few months, and she did not even know what she would do, or think, when he did. Still, whenever she turned around that corner, she would always hope that he would be standing there, an easy grin on his face, and a bookbag slung over his shoulder.
Blue Umbrella
She stood on the cement steps, listening to the big droplets splatter upon her blue umbrella. Slow but hurried cars splashed by on the small street, streams of water dancing in their wake. Her eyes closed as the chilly tears of heaven ran down her legs, into her sandals.
"Miss?" inquired the security guard. "Miss, I'm closing the gates now."
She nodded lightly and started down the steps. The polished cement was extra slippery under her feet as she half slid, half walked away from the building. The big blue umbrella waved carelessly in her hand, and she was lightly soaked by the pouring rain. It's such a big, silly thing, she thought. She loved the rain, and had no interest in the functional qualities of her umbrella. But still she held it, every time it rained. She smiled at it, and skipped gently over the small puddles on the sidewalk. She glanced up at the darkening sky and remembered an evening such as this.
That day, the rain had poured down hard, like it was just then. Her eyes had been half-closed, the lashes blotted with tiny droplets, her denim jacket soaked through, and she stomped on happily through the storm. There he was around the corner, as if waiting for her, although she knew he wasn't, because he had sighed softly and just started to take a step before she had appeared.
"Charlotte," he had broke his stride and called from under his big blue umbrella. He always had the easy grin of a young man, with his bookbag slung lazily over his shoulder, as if nothing in the world could ever hurt him. And that's just what he was in her eyes, invincible.
"Hello, Alex," she smiled at him, wiping away some stray hair plastered to her face by the rain. She was slightly embarrassed to see him in such a state as she was, but the thought was quickly nudged from her mind. After all, they've seen each other through worse, and she wasn't out to impress him. Alex was a very handsome boy and had many girls chasing after him, but he was always just her best friend; her big brother. Someone who would protect her if anyone dared to pick on her. "Just off from practice?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, and then laughed with just a hint of a smirk, "but look at you! I haven't seen you in such a state since you fell into our pool at my eighth birthday party, trying to carry the cake."
"Oh, thank you very much for bringing up that delightful incident," Charlotte frowned, and sighed. "As I recall, you rescued me from that horrid overly chlorinated deathtrap and made s'mores for everyone instead."
"And as I shall come to your rescue now, my fair princess," he flourished an imaginary cape and bowed with an exaggerated sweep of his free arm, then held the umbrella over her head. "Shall I walk you home?"
"I thank you, good Sir Alex," she had grinned at the nickname she had once called him, years ago, playing knights-and-princesses. "You know, I haven't seen you very much lately."
"Ah... I've been a bit busy. My last year on the team, and all. Besides, everyone's been busier this year. With the entrance exams and college applications, you know," he babbled. It wasn't like him to babble. Charlotte eyed him curiously, and nodded.
They had walked on in silence through the small streets, canopied under large, old oak trees. They turned half a dozen street corners or more, and finally strolled down a small path off of the main street. It wasn't a wide path, and the two of them could barely fit on it, so Charlotte walked ahead, with a protective arm at her back. They stopped at the porch of her house. Alex folded the umbrella and put in on the white wooden porch-swing, and gave her a light hug. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but just smiled and waved goodbye. Charlotte stood, somewhat perplexed by his strange behaviour, and had stared at his retreating figure for quite a while before she glanced at the swing and called out.
"Wait! Alex, you forgot your umbrella!" She grabbed it and ran towards him, but he just smiled and shook his head.
"Keep it," he had said simply, wiping away the rain on her face. "I don't want you to get all wet again."
Soon after graduation, not a month after their meeting, she learned that he had flown away to study overseas. She wrote to him, and kept his letters in her drawer. She often wondered if it would be the same, when your friends have gone away all over the world, coming back only for summer vacation. And he didn't even come back for that. He said that it was a waste of money, which would be better used to pay for his hefty tuition fees. She had hung up his umbrella in her room, facing the window, so it would know when it would be needed. She would've had to have finally fallen in love with him, she decided, to do such a silly thing.
She laughed at herself for being so ridiculous, as she walked now, with his big blue umbrella down those same streets. It's been four years, she told herself. He would not be back for a few months, and she did not even know what she would do, or think, when he did. Still, whenever she turned around that corner, she would always hope that he would be standing there, an easy grin on his face, and a bookbag slung over his shoulder.