The rain falls through the leaves of a garden. A drizzle with a breeze light enough to chill the spine, but not enough to blow a light away. There, on an oak bench near the roses, a woman sits. Black ebony hair with fair skin, sitting under an umbrella while a cigarette burns between her lips.  A puff of smoke escapes her lungs as a soft hum sneaks away from her lips. She shakes, shivering as the wind grows colder. She leans back, looking up to see cobwebs on a nearby tree.

The rain grew harder, piercing into the cover of her precious shade as light drops hit her pants. Quickly, she rose from the bench, carrying her umbrella and subsequently losing her cigarette in her hurry. The rain managed to stain an area of her clothes, forcing her to stop by a gazebo nearby. Her short black hair and white sweater now stained with rainwater, the woman sighs and tries to fix her hair. She turns her head, looking at the ripples within the lake. Her face own face relfected in the water as she puts her umbrella to the side. A few steps back and a bump later, she finds a vending machine just outside her cover. Two coins later, and she acquired a hot drink to heat her body. Three shakes and her body heats from the metal tin of her canned cappocino. She looks to her side, viewing the downpour outside as the rain creates a ripples in the water. The canned coffee, cappucino to be exact, was still hot on her hands. She waits in the rain, waiting for the autumn downpour to calm down before realising it wouldn't stop. Steadying herself, she disposes the can into a bin before checking her watch; 17:57, an hour before her train passes. 

She streches her body, warming it for the long run in rain before fixing her hair using her phone's camera. The rain grew lighter just as she exits the gazebo, letting her run without needing her umbrella. She passes a life of people on the way to the station; a mother with her child waiting in a bus stop just as the father comes. an eldery woman carrying groceries, and a man simply walking. With each step, she closes the distance to the station, arriving in the nick time to get a seat amidst a late rush-hour. Half an hour passes, and she misses her station. She sighs, and hails a cab. She arrives late in the night, too tired to cook yet with enough energy to still feel hungry. 

Putting her stained sweater on the dining chair, the woman takes a knife. She washes it and an apple before peeling the red fruit and cutting into it. With a quarter of the apple cut into imperfect slices and put into a bowl, she goes to the balcony and eats them. She lights a cigarette after the third slice, the packaging reading; Free Blue Sky. The nights grows colder the longer she spents time outside, the cigarettes doing little in warming her body as she puts the remaining slices into the fridge along with the full fruit. She collapses into bed after a warm shower.