Semi-Daily Scribbles

The sidewalk was overrun with umbrellas, though the cement was dry and sticky. The people who popped open the umbrellas were tired and sticky. A gaggle of clouds, grey-blue and bloated, took their time as they pushed all sweaty across the sky. Lidia sat on a bench at the bus stop, hand wrapped around her umbrella, head turned in profile. She alternated her focus from the street corner, to the sidewalk, to the overly-ripe sky. She studied a cloud cluster separated from the main parade, the outline of which changed every few seconds, but the overall formation resembled a foul-tempered baby. Chubby cheeks and puffy lips crawled past Lidia in a silent wail. Then, water burst from the cranky baby's eyes, and the umbrellas repelled fat drops in welcome syncopation. Lidia returned her gaze to the street, then the sidewalk dark with moisture. Her hand firmly encircled the folded umbrella as she let baby's tears fall freely on her weary shoulders.