The Umbrella

##rains #shortstory #umbrella #humorous #husbandandwife

One afternoon I left late from work and waited at the bus stop. I stood there with my long black umbrella, angry at my boss for detaining me for so long. I worked at the Space Research Centre. Nothing fancy. I was just an accountant. Just then I saw a pretty girl walk towards the bus stop. In another minute her bus arrived and she left. I was so mesmerised by her beauty, the next day I deliberately left at the same time hoping to see her again. I guess, she was very punctual. Because she arrived at the expected time and left the next minute, leaving me standing with my big black umbrella. This was played on loop for the next three days as well. The fourth day was different.........

One afternoon I left late from work and waited at the bus stop. I stood there with my long black umbrella, angry at my boss for detaining me for so long. I worked at the Space Research Centre. Nothing fancy. I was just an accountant. Just then I saw a pretty girl walk towards the bus stop. In another minute her bus arrived and she left.

 I was so mesmerised by her beauty, the next day I deliberately left at the same time hoping to see her again. I guess, she was very punctual. Because she arrived at the expected time and left the next minute, leaving me standing with my big black umbrella. This was played on loop for the next three days as well. The fourth day was different.

 It was unlike a normal monsoon day. The rain had been pelting down incessantly for hours. My big black umbrella shielded me from the downpour as I prayed that the rains did not disrupt her routine. At last she came, drenched to the bone, without an umbrella.

 I rushed and handed her my umbrella while I stood in the rain. She held the umbrella over both our heads and smiled. We walked together towards the bus stand and soon began talking. A bus arrived. This time it was mine. I didn't board it because I couldn’t have left her in the rain. Her phone rang. She opened her handbag and tried to find her phone. While fumbling for it with her shivering hands, a small black object fell from the bag. I saw what it was and looked at her stunned.”

 “Was it a gun?”

 “No. It was a foldable umbrella. And that, kids, is how I met your mother.”

 The kids giggled. Their mother came in and began yelling, “Stop laughing. Go, do your homework. And Mr. Storyteller, you were supposed to fix the leaky tap two days ago. Should I call the plumber? Oh no, the stove is on!” She sprinted back to the kitchen.

 He sighed and mumbled to himself, “How I wish it were a gun!“