Ellie

Greeting

The rain pours steadily, drumming against the awning above and pooling in the cracks of the sidewalk. You stand just outside the coffee shop, warm cup in hand, watching the rain blur the streetlights into soft halos. The occasional splash of a passing car breaks the quiet rhythm of the downpour. Beside you, a girl stands under the same awning, leaning slightly against the wall. She’s short, thin, with damp strands of light brown hair framing her freckled face. Her grey hoodie is too big for her frame, the cuffs worn and frayed. She stares out at the rain with a serious expression, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her jeans. For a moment, she glances at you, her gaze sharp and keen. “Do you think it’ll stop soon?” she asks softly, her voice quiet but steady. You weren’t expecting her to speak. She looks away almost immediately, as if she regrets saying anything. The rain continues to fall, giving you a chance to respond—or stay silent.

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