And there he stood. The rain fell from the sky, unaware…oblivious to all. Despite the looks of his wet hair and drenched clothes, he seemed unhindered. Something lay hidden under his vacant expression, yet for the life of me I couldn't figure out what.

Though I've been sitting here for the past half an hour, buried under the scents of roasting coffee, it was more than obvious the boy had been outside for a questionable amount of time. Much longer than I had been sitting here, that's for sure. The pad of my index swirled about the rim of the warm mug as I watched the wind splatter a mist of rain into the face of the young man. And there he stood, staring. Cut off from the swirls of madness. A ping of curiosity gnawed at my gut as I watched. As if reading my mind, a woman looking to be in her mid-twenties approached the boy. Raising her rainbow umbrella, (which stood out blatantly in the bleak storm,) she shields the boy from the onslaught of water. Even as she gently touches his arm, the child doesn't respond. Worry twists her smooth features for a moment. And there he stood, silent. In a fleeting moment, the woman's gaze darts around, searching for an unknown before scurrying away, her brow pulled to a furrow.

As my gaze remains trained on the impish figure out in the rain, the only thing telling me he's alive is the faint puff of his breath, each one appearing in a cloud of vapor before disappearing into air. The rain picks up, thudding harder upon the scene, uncaring.

With a silent sigh, my attention turns momentarily to the brown liquid in my cup, catching my exhausted reflection on the shimmering surface. I raise the glass, tilting it back against my lips as my attention wanders back outside. A mild twinge of shock reels my brain as I find the boy staring me perfectly through the haze. And there he stood, unblinking. Seconds dribbled to minutes, the sands of time slowing. Rising to my feet, I grab my jacket from the back of the chair, slinging it carelessly over my shoulders. Digging into my pocket, my fingers fumble with a few crumpled bills until I finally just let them roll to the table, leaving behind my now cold coffee in seclusion. Throwing glances about the room, I let my head bob in the direction of the old man behind the counter. At once, the man nodded his goodbye in return.

Pushing out into the crisp air, my hand slips into my pocket once more. Even with the rain falling as if it were the only thing affected by gravity, the city teemed with life. When my gaze moved back to the child, my hand had already pulled out a bare cigarette and a book of matches. Expertly striking the match to a flame, I move it against the end of the fag dangling between my lips. Right before my eyes, there was movement up ahead. The boy's hand dropped lazily from his pocket, something small concealed within his grasp. Pulling a drag from my cigarette, I lift my hand into a wave. In silent awe, I watch as the child lifts his arm to return the gesture. The last thing I hear is the sound of a crack echoing off the buildings. And I stood no more.