The entries below are purely fiction.
I like the colour grey. The more and more it rains, the more and more I like the colour grey. It’s funny how different the city looks when it rains. All the pedestrians take out their umbrellas, and from my balcony they look like little, multi-coloured Pac Men, disappearing around buildings and getting into cars.
I’ve already cleaned the house twice. In the morning I unpacked the books from the remaining boxes and set them up in that bookshelf I bought from Marks & Spencer, and just after 3pm, I moved the shelf and organized the books in alphabetical order. Then I started to rearrange everything— the bathroom, my bedroom—and with each change I’d go to the balcony and watch the little Pac Men make their rounds. I keep telling myself that as soon as it stops raining, I’ll go out there and see what London has to offer. Though, it’s been six days with no intention of changing, so maybe I should change the plan. Tomorrow I’ll buy an umbrella.
On the ground everything is green, and the rain is more of a polite sprinkle rather than a full on downpour. An umbrella and a raincoat are very fashionable here and everyone sort of augments their gestures to accommodate holding an umbrella: hand talkers only use one hand to hand talk, and when passing by others one person lifts and another person lowers. Out of the couples I’ve seen, the guy does most of the holding, unless he stops to tie his shoe. I wonder if Elias would do the same for me if he were here, make it a point in his boyfriend job description to hold the umbrella every time we walked in the rain. I think he would at first and then the frequency of the holding would bug him, just like the handholding did. And maybe I’d catch him holding an umbrella for some other girl and that would be the first sign. Instead of the excuses and the broken eye contact, and the text messages, I’d find him pressing Jessica to his side while shielding her from the rain. Or maybe that would be how they met: Damsel in distress caught in the rain and Elias, the hero. No sword though, he’d save her with his umbrella and everything would be all green and grey. While I walked to the Thames, I started to consider how simple changes can change everything, and how London and its rain could change me. Though after ten minutes of people watching and no definite answers, I went back home and rearranged the bookshelf.
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