It poured.

I decided to wait for them outside, so I hobbled on the uneven road, past the guardhouse, and stood on the pathway directly opposite an unused piece of raised land. Usually, there would be at least three different families attempting to have picnics or fly kites on an evening like this. But as I raised my head slightly at the vastness up above and saw the dark clouds tumbling lightly by, I knew it was going to be a lovely night. Regardless.

In a matter of minutes, the eight o'clock sky gradually turned twilight, light blue to indigo. The wind twirled playfully up my skirt as the car finally rolled in, right in front of me. We raced, towards the darkness. Against the wind, against reason. And then we succumbed to the almost transparent curtain of rain, and it beat down mercilessly. I watched through the sun-roof as the puddles change shape as quietly and beautifully as if they were confetti in a kaleidoscope, merging and dividing as they drip down the side of the car.

Protected by the metal shell, I wished the rain could reach me.