The Black Umbrella

You are the comfort in my strangeness.

 

Stranger.

He was drenched in tears of the nimbus, embracing himself in the chill of dusk. His dark blue shirt clung to his body as he walked slowly along the gray pavement, head tilted down, passing the flickering golden gleam of streetlights that illuminated his dark hair.

 

Three meters away, she watched him with curiosity. As she walked in a slightly quick pace, both hands holding on to her black umbrella, her dark eyes stared at the boy who seemed not to mind the downpour. She was then distracted by the quick flash of a bright zigzag line through the murkily hazed sky. How she loved the sight �" terrifying, but magnificent in its one-second glory. At that moment, she was deafened by the thunder’s song.

 

Strangers.

He turned his back and saw the streak of lightning reflected in her eyes. She suddenly heard a voice, “Excuse me, do you mind?” And she snapped back to reality, only surprised to see the boy right in front of her, pointing to the black umbrella. She let him stay with her under it. He offered his hand, and she gave him the umbrella. Amidst the crystalline waters cascading from the clouds, under a lamp post’s dim glow, they merely stood there for a few seconds, each one apparently gazing at the other.

 

She saw eyes that spoke of kings in the Sahara, such mystifying kindness in his face that emanated both melancholy and euphoria, a certain peace in his presence that played Italian moonlight sonatas, in the twinkle of his eyes she saw the heavens of Andromeda. He saw her svelte purple-clad body a la Spanish guitara, a softly piercing look that told of tales from Eurasia, cascading strands of chocolate hair accentuating her caramel skin, arched brows that framed the eyes of an Egyptian queen.

 

Strange.

She smiled for the first time in a long time. He felt warmth in the midst of the cold. The dark gray skies sang lullabies. And together, under the black umbrella, they walked through the nightfall. He did not want the rain to halt its gushing. She longed to look at his eyes once more. Never forget this moment, he thought. She said to herself, never felt this strangeness before.   

 

The wrath of wind and water soon came to an end. They had to say goodbye. A cab passed by and she rode away. He waved at her and walked some more until he reached home fifteen minutes later. He pulled out a notebook from his shelves and began to write for the first time in five months. He painted the rain, the girl, and the black umbrella with his flawless poetry. She took out a blank white canvas and prepared her palette. She wrote the story of how she found magic in the eyes of a boy as she lithely moved her hand that held a black-smeared paintbrush.

 

Wait.

 

Oh no, her umbrella.

 

Oops, he has my umbrella.

 

Strangeness.

Somehow, they were bound to meet again.

 

 

© Maxinne Marie

November 25, 2007 @ 12:30 AM

Reviews

[Rc R. Vagilidad]

not just anytime, and anywhere, and the strangeness of things as to a black umbrella could be something out to be visualized.. well, i read this in your blog already, but i decided to put my reviews in here.

i see you come up with one word sentence, that's a bit unusual but i still love to see that word to be more than alone, over-all seems categorized.. like a topic discussed with a one word subtitle. anyway with no more ado, i would just like to tell you that you've written another heartfelt-true-to-life-emotions and i believe this one could be ought inspirational, for you, I know that it is....pretty obvious. i jsut don't know how, or where, or who made this possible.

[Imperfection]

I like how the story progresses. Your words kept me hooked to it till the very end.

This is an excellent piece. If you add more to this, please send it to me.

[Raef C. Boylan]

This is a great piece; your descriptions are poetic, the storyline a lovely dramatisation of the mundane [actually, it's quite rare to find a stranger who would share their umbrella, so I guess it's actually not mundane - what I meant is that it's not a dramatic incident, more of a quiet moment shared and you've skilfully turned it into a detailed short].
Fate may well be at work here [within the story], as she might not get her umbrella back without its help...unless they both always take that street at the same time.
You use some great imagery throughout, e.g:
"tears of the nimbus"
and the passage you mention in your Author's Note.
You're not afraid to access your extensive vocabulary and put it to use, which is great to see.

Nice continuity with the "stranger...strangers...strange" - alone, together, reduced.

Overall, an admirable piece of work.
I enjoyed reading this. Thanks for posting it.

[Bhavya Kaushik]

Wonderful story..I mean yet it describes a brief encounter..but still its a very powerful work!!
A great read..
thanks for posting it here :)

[Marie]

Nicely done.

[rachelle.]

The lines that you said you enjoyed writing, were really enjoyable to read. The flowing smoothness of them with such strong metaphors -- striking! wonderful work, really really "smooth" read. :)

[Celtic Cat]

I thoroughly enjoyed this piece, it's so great. I love the Stranger Strangers Strange transitions... the magical sparks between them.. and him keeping the umbrella. They say if you leave something with another it is because you mean to see them again, as your ending seems to indicate. I adored your favorite lines as well.... so beautiful. What a lovely tale... strangers touching each other and parting. Truly wonderful.

[Dshaman14]

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!

very cute story.... hope it'll happen to me... HAHA!!! im gonna try that when it rains.. ^^
who knows, Destiny will be good ^^

[Angelheaded Hipster]

I had to smile when she left behind the umbrella....it's only natural that they meet again.....such a strange meeting for the both of them....
I like the moment in time aura surrounding them....You did this well!

[Touché Armada]

Oh my gosh I am in love with this place and time and this whole scene, a little piece of reality for two people someplace sometime in the best rainstorm they may ever encounter.
The descriptions are deliciously vivid I really dont know what to say, blah for bad reviews on beautiful writing.
Totally enjoyable!

[Blue Bard]

I like the piece. It tells a wonderful story of a brief encounter and what we can do to each other, even if contact is short. My only critique is about form. This reads more like prose than poetry and the paragraph structure also leans toward prose. That is not to say what you have isn't good, but is it a poem or a story? That is the question. Either way, it's your call. I enjoyed the piece.