“But here’s the thing about rain,” she continued, watching a stream of water carve a river down the glass. “You can’t stop it. You can’t edit it. You can only stand under an awning and wait. Or… you can just go out in it.”
She opened Instagram. Her thumb hovered over the caption box.
But none of them would know that the best caption wasn't written. It was lived.
She took one photo. No coffee mug. No orchid. Just her own two feet standing in a puddle, the neon sign of the twenty-four-hour laundromat reflecting upside down in the water.