A Rainy Morning

Sofia realised she was running late the moment she heard the rain drumming against her bedroom window. She hurried through breakfast, hunted for her red umbrella and left the flat with her lunch bag clamped under one arm, having already lost five precious minutes looking for her keys. Outside, the pavement was glistening with puddles, and the bus stop was far more crowded than usual.

As she approached, she saw her bus waiting at the traffic lights, a few metres away. She broke into a half-run, but the doors closed just as she reached the kerb and the bus pulled away without so much as a glance in her direction. For a moment she simply stood there with water dripping from her umbrella, annoyed at the driver and, if she was honest, rather more annoyed at herself.

The timetable promised another bus in twelve minutes. Sofia checked her phone and did a quick calculation: her first meeting was at ten, so provided the traffic behaved, she would still arrive with time to spare. Instead of glaring at the road and rehearsing her irritation, she took the small notebook she kept for work out of her bag and sheltered it beneath the umbrella.

She listed three tasks: finish the report, phone the client and buy coffee for the meeting. Then she wrote to a colleague: “Missed my bus. I should still be there before ten.” The answer came back almost immediately: “No problem. See you soon.” The exchange cost her thirty seconds, yet it took away the vague fear of keeping people waiting that had been tightening in her chest since the doors had shut.

When the next bus finally arrived, her shoes were soaked and her fingers were cold. Even so, she felt noticeably calmer than she had on the pavement. She had not made the rain stop, nor had she brought the first bus back. All she had done was check the facts, decide what mattered and make a plan, and that, she reflected as she stepped aboard, had turned out to be enough.