At The Pond YCH - Calder

At The Pond YCH for CalderCav Original

nitro comm for @proteanderg, tysm for letting me draw your character again !! ^ ^

Maybe just a mood or a memory. Either way, here it is.🌧✨

—

Yesterday I walked into the first cold rain of this spring that still feels like winter.

I was wearing my favourite black cashmere coat — the one I bought years ago when I was still finishing my master’s and doubted whether I could ever make a decent start to my legal career.

Yesterday though, I walked out of the office with a heavy case of papers I’d already been working on for quite some time as part of the disputes department at the firm.

The rain made me shiver - it felt harsh against my chin, like an old woollen scarf that scratched instead of keeping you warm.

I waited for a cab and got into a warm but stiff car. Somehow, I remembered walking under the pouring rain once - back when I was living in Hong Kong.

For some reason, the memory of that day came back to me with striking clarity.

It was late September, and the weather kept shifting before settling into the cold, humid fall.

I was on vacation then, and had dinner with a friend that evening.

As I hadn’t planned anything for the day, I walked from my place in Causeway Bay all the way to Admiralty, had a strong black coffee at the Marriott bar, and drafted replies to a few emails (who cares if you’re on vacation when you work in corporate).

I stared through the glass window facing the street, watching cars and buses roar past as the business day reached its peak.

I still had some time left before getting ready for dinner, so I decided to take a walk back to the hotel.

I left the lobby, glanced around, and went down toward the High Court and to Pacific Place, then walked towards Wan Chai through smaller streets — away from familiarity.

I passed a few quiet seafood shops, a coffee place, and a cozy Mexican restaurant where I once had amazing margaritas and laughed with the owner in Spanish - God, I was surprised I still remembered any from my university days.

A little further on, I walked past a small coffee place that sold only croissants.

I was tempted to have another cup to go, but decided not to give in this time — all that effort just to avoid the anxiety that caffeine brings.

Then it started.

A couple of raindrops on my face and arm.

Then a few more on my collarbone.

As the rain began to pour, almost everyone on the street, as if on command, opened their umbrellas.

I had none in my bag, and that day I was wearing just a silky black dress and a slip underneath.

My first instinct was to hide in one of the arcades along the street.

But as I searched for a place, the rain felt so warm that I decided to keep walking a little farther toward Hennessy Road.

Somehow I took a wrong turn and found myself up a hill at the entrance of a green, humid park.

By then, I was already soaking wet — the dress clinging to me, beads of water dripping down, as if I were wearing Holly Golightly’s dress from Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

My hair was turning wavy - the morning’s polished blowout completely gone.

Even as the rain streamed over my face and body, it felt warm and pleasant.

I wasn’t thinking about my brand-new leather bag getting wet or my makeup washing away.

I felt released from my usual controlled, polished state — as if the water itself was washing away every expectation.

There was freedom in not caring about how I looked, where I was going, or how I’d show up back at the hotel.

The plan to hide from the rain never worked; my search for shelter led me to the park entrance, with no shop or café in sight.

I smiled at how good it felt to have no idea where I was, then crossed the road to an empty parking lot that turned out to be the entrance to a Methodist International Church.

I realized I still had a couple of hours before dinner, so I took a cab back to the hotel.

As I sank into the cool leather seat of a classic red and green Hong Kong cab, I smiled again — thinking how rain can shift your perspective on life, and how I’d missed that feeling of not caring at all.

I put on my headphones, the water from my hair and dress still quietly dripping onto the leather seat, and played Sunsetz by Cigarettes After Sex — a song I hadn’t listened to in a while.

to be continued...🖤

by CK