Under the Umbrella

The sound of raindrops outside woke me before the alarm did. The rain falling on the still half-asleep city seemed to be quietly washing away the words we hadn't managed to say yesterday. Pouring another cup of coffee, I think: today I should be the one to ask someone first, "How have you been?" On rainy mornings, the heart softens somehow. Even the doors I've kept firmly shut, today, I think it would be all right to leave a little open.