Vigil by the Glass

Rain was hammering New York like it wanted to wash the whole city away. I stood right up against the cold window glass, watching yellow cabs splash through massive grey puddles below. A part of me wanted to sprint out there, leap through fire escapes, and see if anyone dropped an umbrella or needed a hero. But soaked fabric gets impossibly heavy, and honestly... it feels nice being safe and dry inside, even if duty tugs at my chest. I ended up tracing raindrops sliding down the glass with my cloth fingertip, wondering if crime takes a break when it pours this hard.