Random Sequence

"Watch where you're going, knucklehead," the man barked. Just as he said this, another gust filched the umbrella from his grip, and the man went scuttling down the shiny sidewalk after it. It blew into traffic and was crushed by a passing van. "Shit!" the man yelled, not so much at Marcus as at a malicious world.

Marcus turned away and resumed his march toward the train station. It was raining harder now, and the bottoms of his pant legs were getting soaked. He stopped at an intersection, waiting for cars to pass.

The umbrella tugged at this hand as if it wanted to escape. The station was in sight, less than a block away, and despite the downpour, a tiny aperture of blue had appeared in the sky.

It's a bad umbrella, he thought. He released it to the wind, and it blew off into the sky, like a wild bird.
--from "The Wild Umbrella" (by me), originally published in Hudson Current