Waiting

He stood in the rain, looking down both ends of the street, waiting. The freezing water came down in sheets, making sure there was no chance of him staying dry, even with the use of his old umbrella. The street light flickered, illuminating his anxious expression randomly. It was so late, or perhaps early, and there was not another person in sight, not a car on the road. And he continued waiting. He heard the pounding footsteps of someone trying to escape the downpour. His head whipped around to the direction of the sound, the only sound apart from the unrelenting rain. A figure came into sight, carrying a briefcase over their heads as if it could help. And they continued running right past him, and he looked back to the ground. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the relaxing smell of water against tar. He rested his hand on his stomach, which was filled with butterflies that refused to settle down. Would this be worth the wait? He was beginning to think not, but if there was even the slightest shred of a chance... He had been confident at first, but was no longer so sure.
Suddenly the man stopped shivering, for he was now numb to all but one feeling. The street light flickered out once more, and this time it didn't turn back on. He was plunged into darkness, with only the rain as his company. With one long sigh, he sunk to the footpath, dropped the umbrella and let the rain claim the last of him. She hadn't come.