Yesterday, after my noon break,
I went back to work.
On foot, in the pouring rain.
I had my favorite umbrella with me,
A red one.
Suddenly I heard noise coming from around the corner,
A lot of yelling and honking.
I supposed it was an aggressive driver,
With little patience.
A bit curious I speedend my step.
When I reached the corner,
I saw somebody,
On the ground.
In the middle of the road,
With a big truck in front of him.
There have been roadworks,
Cars are forced to take the mid path,
Normally for busses and trams.
The truck had been driving backwards,
And had hit an old man,
On his bike,
Crossing the street.
I had to cross that same street,
Only a few meters from where the man was.
I felt hopeless.
And I had a constant need,
A need to do something.
I couldn't just walk on by.
What could I offer?
A woman was sitting beside the man, holding his hands.
The guys from the truck were controlling the traffic,
And somebody else was on the phone.
Everything was taken care off.
I was already crossing the street when I changed course,
Going straight for the man and the woman sitting beside him.
They didn't notice me.
His leg was torn open, he was shaking.
He looked to the sky and I could see his panic, his fear.
"Miss", I called for about five times.
She looked up.
"Here, take my umbrella".
She took it and looked straight back to the old man.
Still in shock.
I walked on.
But it didn't bother me.
Because I knew, I had done something.
Something so that the old man wouldn't get soaked.
The rain wouldn't drip in his eyes anymore.
And I realized,
I wouldn't miss my favorite umbrella.
It wasn't important.
The only thing on my mind, for the rest of that day,
Was the hope that that man would be allright.