"Do you see that orange glow?" she asked him, pointing to a patch of sky over the elevated railway track. "Whenever the sky turns orange at night, it means it is going to rain."
"That orange light?" he looked in the direction of her finger, "That looks to me like the light thrown by the headlamp of a train. Wait and watch, a train must be on its way."
Within moments, a train appeared on the skyline and glided over the chaos of traffic on the ground.
"Look, I told you," he smiled.
She smiled back. Her nose-ring shone under the roadside lamp.
"OK, see you then," she said.
"See you," he said.
Back home, he took out the sheets of paper on which he had scribbled some thoughts the night before. He put them on the bed and went to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. Back in the bedroom, he found the sheets flying. The curtains were up in the air and empty plastic bottles toppled. There were flashes of lightning and then thunder.
He collected the sheets and settled down to write — to the familiar sound of rain.
"That orange light?" he looked in the direction of her finger, "That looks to me like the light thrown by the headlamp of a train. Wait and watch, a train must be on its way."
Within moments, a train appeared on the skyline and glided over the chaos of traffic on the ground.
"Look, I told you," he smiled.
She smiled back. Her nose-ring shone under the roadside lamp.
"OK, see you then," she said.
"See you," he said.
Back home, he took out the sheets of paper on which he had scribbled some thoughts the night before. He put them on the bed and went to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. Back in the bedroom, he found the sheets flying. The curtains were up in the air and empty plastic bottles toppled. There were flashes of lightning and then thunder.
He collected the sheets and settled down to write — to the familiar sound of rain.
