Anita's glossy eyes came to focus on the red umbrella held by a man standing on the far side of the street. She wondered which bus he was waiting for and where he was headed. Wherever it was, she hoped he would be able to escape the cruel, flippant spring weather of the Midwest. She wished she could join him.

A cup of coffee had been placed in front of her several minutes ago and was beginning to lose its warmth. She used what little it had left to offer to thaw her fingers, pressing her palms against the mug's black ceramic surface. Polished fingernails the color of rubies offered a bit of contrast to the bleak weather and the dark mug. A sad smile reached her lips when she met her reflection's gaze in the shop's front window. The small reservoirs behind her eyes threatened to overflow, she noticed, so she blinked the drops away. She stared, dazed by the falling rain and the tired look in her own face. he studied this girl who was, to her, only vaguely familiar.

The whipped cream floating on the surface of the coffee had begun to melt, and she brought to mug to her lips to sip the first sweet layer away.

The coffee was now cold.