TheStrangerInTheFog

A bright red double-decker bus rumbled down the dull London streets, the sidewalks cluttered with umbrellas of all shapes and sizes and patterns shuffling to and fro.  Raindrops fell to the cement and pavement, pitter-pattered on windows and rooftops; dark gray clouds crowded the skies and concealed the Sun's light.  Today was a dreary day. On the double-decker bus sat a young man in a suit and a black umbrella and a bouquet of flowers in his lap, his green eyes fluttering restlessly about, landing on one thing then zipping to something else, whether it was a street sign outside the rain-streaked windows or another person