It had been raining steadily through the night. She was wide awake, hearing the rain ricochet across the window pain, like a persistent knocking. Seeing the stray flashes of lightning, with the promise of inevitable thunderclaps resonating through the airwaves. She was cocooned in her damp blanket, her feet sticking out.
Tick-tock. 2 O’clock.
Wide awake. Random thoughts flickered through her mind. The cup of tea she spilled in the morning. Her mother’s steady droning voice on the phone. The stranger on the tram who kept looking at her. Who she wanted to follow when he got off at some obscure station, but decided not to because the mud and the filth inconvenienced her. The little dead kitten being pecked on by crows.
Another clap of thunder. She hugged her blanket tighter and closed her eyes. Reflecting vaguely how time goes so slowly, especially in the after hours. Especially on nights when you are so alone. So listless. When all you really want is the company of a stranger who you’ll never have to see the following day.