Rain on 5th street

 

Title: Rain on 5th Street

It started with a broken umbrella.

Maya stood on the corner of 5th and Clarkson, rain soaking through her hoodie, watching yellow cabs blur into streaks of light. Her umbrella had flipped inside out five minutes ago, and she was debating whether to brave the walk or wait for a miracle.

That's when he showed up—tall, dry, and holding a navy blue umbrella like a knight’s shield.

"You look like you lost a battle," he said with a half-smile.

She laughed. “Umbrella: zero. Wind: one.”

He held his umbrella out. “Want a rematch? I’m heading downtown.”

She hesitated. Stranger. Rain. But his eyes were kind, and her jeans were already drenched.

“Sure,” she said.

They walked close, trying not to bump elbows. He told her his name was Leo. She learned he liked midnight movies and hated olives. She told him she worked in a bookstore and pretended not to notice how he kept glancing at her when she smiled.

At her corner, he stopped.

“Thanks for the rescue,” she said.

He shrugged. “You saved me from a boring walk.”

She almost walked away. Almost.

But then she turned and asked, “Want to do it again? Maybe with coffee instead of rain?”

Leo grinned. “Absolutely.”

Some stories start with sparks. Theirs started with a storm.