You pass by so many people in this city, and most never raise their eyes from the shadows cast by the spread of their umbrellas. The streets are slick with color, broken by foot falls over phosphorescent streaks that pop against the dimmed blue night. Though people move with their downcast gaze, circumstance can break this rhythm. A slight misstep, an intersection of trajectories- it can push two people within a distance that can be closed by the will to connect. Rainy night, isn't it? Hell of a day, too. Where are you coming from? I've got a friend up that way, too. Rushed across the street to catch relief under an awning, waiting for a break in the downpour- it's good to connect, she said, and smiled while you thought about the infinite possibilities of a world built on chance.