An act of kindness.

On a grey afternoon, I sat upon the steps of the museum just to peer into the green horizons of central park. Drop by drop, the inhabitants of these stone levels scattered distantly for the nearest shelter. I remained in the same place welcoming the beginnings of a soft downpour. The calm of feeling rain as it forms washed away doubt and stress. Yet, now before me came a storm in the form of a woman. She was in my eyes, a budding rose whose beauty is hidden through the shackles of consequence. She blushes under the touching rain, embarrassed for not having means to shield herself. My chest thunders in just witnessing the small intricate normalities of her and wanting to be a part of it. I mull over insane and pratcial possibility in the few seconds and feet she is away from me. I would like nothing more just to wrap my arms around her and keep her warm in an embrace, but I resign quickly form the idea. I get up and remove my arely touched coat, lay it over her and walk away as if I had never laid eyes on her for this was nothing more than a dream of a stranger.