The rain drove them towards tea and shelter. The gentleman passed her the first cup while the barbarian leaned back and smirked. Two strangers under one raincast evening. One in the aftermath of a great weeping and the other a bit blind. During a conversation in silence, a earbud was offered and after a pause, received her eyes going soft.
They may have been sipping tea but to ‘Adeleine by Champs’ they let go and danced. Their movements ripping apart reflections and raindrops over the road-made-river, lit together in red-orange-blue lights. As the song linking them came to its sweet end, he picked off the water drops that rolled down her side of neck and turned them into words, the first line of a poem. The earbud was returned. Savouring the magic, nameless and with a nod, they parted to join the shadows of the night.

The vines on the wire witness to their meeting.