He reminded her of a broken marionette. She knew him only by his down-turned profile, through the scruff of his gray spattered beard. She imagined roots plunged deep into the earth beneath his feet, fixing him to his perch on a dark bench nearly cocooned in slick, pale, corkscrewed vines. The yard was carefully chaotic. Fresh shoots of spring green rivaled older, waxy greens so dark they were nearly black. Delicate blooms as white as bleached linens swung wildy in the lashing rain. She approached him cautiously, her white keds already soaked through. She held out her cupped palm. His head lifted, examined the small glass sun-catcher pearled with rain drops in her hand.
"Why?" his eyes met hers. She'd never seen them; they were pale, cool blue pools of water.
"You're always alone out here. I figured you could use a rainbow."
Rain plunged off of his nose in a steady stream. "What's your name?"
"Lila. I'm Thomas. Sit down?"
Lila sat. Thomas lifted the rainbow up. Its colors caught nothing but rain.
edit: extra quotation mark.
Edited by Copper, 07 March 2009 - 11:25 PM.