Sunday Afternoon

Unlike someone I know, the images that come into my mind do not come as frequent and not in my dream. They just pop out of nowhere. This time (about the end of January), it's a picture of a window overlooking a road on a rainy day. And at the other side of the road, someone wearing a black coat and a black bowler hat carrying a black umbrella is passing by. That's it. So I wrote this. My grammar sucks (and the story might suck too) so there're lots of grammar mistakes there (I think) even though this is the second draft.