Rain Is Wet

I give to you a story in eleventy-one words...

The young Asian woman eyed my umbrella. ‘Is it raining?’

‘Yes,’ I answered.

‘Maybe it isn’t now.’

‘Maybe,’ I admitted.

The elevator transported us to the lobby. We walked to the front doors.

‘Is it raining?’ she asked.

Sheets of rain pounded the glass.

‘Yes,’ I replied.

‘Can I have your umbrella?’

I considered my response. ‘What will I use?’

‘Nothing,’ she responded. ‘The rain won’t touch you.’

‘What?’

‘You will not get wet. With your umbrella, I will not get wet too.’ She smiled. ‘So I take?’

‘Here; I’ll try to find another.’

‘No need,’ she replied. She accepted the umbrella and disappeared into the rain.

I followed her outside.