It was raining that Sunday morning.
She stepped outside, her hood loosely framing her face, and shoved her bag underneath her coat hoping the purple suede wouldn't get wet. She walked down the brick path as water cascaded in puddles around her footsteps and droplets found their way onto her already showered hair. But she didn't mind the bite of the rain that morning.
She made it to the cafeteria and unveiled her bag. It was unscathed.
Having swiped in, she made her way to her table in the corner; quiet enough for imagining up her next great rendezvous but public enough that no one would question why she was sitting by herself.
It was the perfect ruse.
**No idea what this was supposed to turn into, but I sort of like the mystery that it leaves, unfinished.
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