We pulled into a train station, I don’t know the name of it, the day was starting to blur, 6.5 hours of travel and still another hour to go.
A man was standing on the platform, his golf umbrella folded beside him, a spot of garish brightness against the grey. The rain had stopped he didn’t need the umbrella anymore.
Everything was grey, it was an unsettling reflection of my mood, grey skies, grey fences and seats and the puddles on the black tarmac reflecting back the grey skies.
As Annie and I watched the man with the umbrella greet his friend off the train, Annie turned to me and said “when will it stop raining?”
The combination of visual prompts, umbrella, puddles, grey skys = rain, in her mind, even though the rain had stopped long before we got on the train.