The rain in K City always comes unexpectedly. When heavy raindrops were falling, I was hurriedly protecting my newly-styled hair, but you burst into my sight like a gust of wind - standing in front of me holding an umbrella, blocking me from the miserable rain.
Later, the wind swept the raindrops across the street corner. You said you were on your way, hurriedly put the umbrella into my hand and ran away. The warm white umbrella cover still retains your warmth. The rain stopped for a long time that day, but this temperature stayed in my heart for a long time.
Since then, there have always been some "happening" encounters in the corridors of the teaching building, in the queues in the cafeteria, and at the windows of the library. I counted your footsteps as you passed by, and drew the shape of an umbrella countless times in my notebook. Those hesitant attempts to speak were just an attempt to quietly open a crack in your heart.
But the summer wind blew away too many things after all. Several admission notices printed in different cities were like an invisible wall, separating all the unfinished words in the midsummer of that year. The rain stopped, the umbrella was closed, and even the stubborn thoughts in my heart slowly faded into a shadow in my memory along with the chirping of the cicadas.
Intention: Using the occasional rain as a guide, write about the secrets and inevitability of emotions quietly sprouting in subtle places; using the turning point of the break of rain to explore the unique persistence and determination of emotions due to the touch of a certain moment.