A few moments ago,
opening up her purple streaked umbrella, she got down from the bus. Local buses, that ran between her home and office, that passed by a market and the convent school and that carried her to and fro, except for today. And today, she got down in between, without picking up her son from his school or going to the vegetable market. Yes, she got in between. Passing by the bare withered trees, she entered into an unfamiliar avenue. A dramatic busy street, where nobody startled, nobody cared. Among the hundreds walking across the street, she was one. Entering into the compound of apartment, she raised her head to see the top of the building, but she couldn’t. The rain drops still continued its fall.
She stood for a while under the search board of residents list and took the elevator. On the third or fourth, there is the house of a man who taught piano classes to some..some of his friends, some of their children and so. She might have reached the fourth floor to find in a place where she can send her little son for his piano lessons. There was a security guard instructing some workers, standing near the floor that wouldn’t even spare a stare as the woman would walk in his house and they shut the door.