Umbrellas over Manhattan

On Thursday everything seems different in Manhattan. There's a gray color in the air that surrounds us from the The Bronx to Brooklyn. No one is free of it. The rain comes pouring through the sky, and we all tend to think that we will drown. Sidewalks get wet, with the type of water that cover your toes and makes you cold all over your warm and gooey places. New yorkers pull their umbrellas out from their bags, and within a blink of an eye, they are open and covering their fashionable hairdos from the miserable water that has come to stay, apparently. Tourists are disappointed. They wanted a nice old fashionable sunny day. They get all wet because, unlike new yorkers, they don't come prepared with umbrellas on their bags. They stop to the nearest shop and buy a 25 $ umbrella when in fact, two blocks to their right there is a man selling them on the street for 3$. What they can't seem to understand is that Nyc has its charm, even when the city is covered by umbrellas. Kids run in the streets, not caring about getting wet, and of course, not knowing that they'll get a cold in a few hours. Women, that seem to be living in a dream walking between sunset and sunrise, parade them self through 5th Av as if it were a runway for Giorgio Armani. The homeless find them selfs wishing the weather was somewhat different so that it would work to their advantage. Suicidal s are more content with this weather. They feel identified with the drops that scream comprehension and that seem to console them, they look up to a sky that, for them, has never seen the sun. Umbrellas seem to cover the city from west to east. If you were in a helicopter, looking down from the sky, you wouldnt recognize Central Park 'cause its not green as always, its just covered by an infinite scale of colors that correspond to the thousand umbrellas that are over Manhattan.

Ana Cristina Sosa