New York City

Metropolitan Diary: Hot pink umbrella

Dear Diary:

I was returning to work from a coffee run when I got caught in the start of a rainstorm without my umbrella.

When I got to the corner at 77th Street and Columbus, I just missed the light to cross. A long line of waiting cars began its procession. I stood there, getting soaked.

Then the downpour over me suddenly stopped. I whirled around. An older woman standing beside me had put her hot pink umbrella over the two of us.

“I can keep you dry for a little while,” she said.

I thanked her, laughing a little.

“Was my misery so apparent?”

“Your hair was wet.”

The light changed, and we crossed the street together under the shelter of her umbrella.

“How far do you have to go?” she asked.

“Just here,” I said, pointing to the right. “I work at the museum.”

She smiled.

“Well,” she said, walking off, “have a lovely day!”

— Camille Jetta