The rain made a soft slapping sound as it splashed on his upturned face. The drops were warm against his skin – carving paths through the grime and dirt on his cheeks. He stooped over and pulled up his hood to shelter himself from the downpour but the cotton of the hood was soon soaked through.
Rain was the worst.
People stayed inside in the rain.
He was usually the most alone in the rain.
His bare feet splashed through the puddles in the gutter as he crossed the empty street. The wet slaps of the souls of his feet echoed the splashes of rain on his hood. He hurried down the sidewalk to the corner where a small group huddled waiting for the light to change.
Dark umbrellas clustered like mushrooms at the curb. When the walk light lit up the crowd burst into the street. He was lost amid the crowd for just a moment and then he was alone again splashing his way down an alley.
He bent and scooped up a stray cat that was huddled in the alley.
At least he wouldn’t go hungry.