Confusion

She pushes her hands deeper into her pockets, tugging down so that the wind cannot blow her hood off of her tangled hair. She walks faster, pretending she doesn't feel the insistent drops seeping through her clothes. Her bag slips from her shoulder, hanging in her elbow until she removes her hand from its shelter and thrusts the large black bag back where it belongs. She has no clue where she's going, but any passerby would say she walks with a purpose. She does have a purpose, but she has no destination. She is running away.

In the distance behind her, someone stands, watching from the shelter of a large umbrella. An umbrella meant for two. The person steps forward then stops. Chasing is unwise. Either she will return, or she won't. So the person stands, merely watching, as the bright red hoodie gets splattered with water, watching it disappear into the fold of the sky.