She shifted slightly to the side, carefully lifting the hem of her dress, exuding a grace and warmth that time could never take away.
He shook his head and said no, then handed over the umbrella in his hand. "Here, you can use this."
"If I take your umbrella, what about you?" The elderly woman was in a hurry to leave but lingered here, worried the rain might ruin the flowers in her hands.
The fragile Forget-Me-Nots cannot endure. Once parted from the soil, they quickly wither.
He said, "I'm not in a rush. I can wait until the rain stops to leave."
Only then did the elderly woman accept the umbrella. Before leaving, she said, "I'll make sure to return it to you. I'm truly sorry for troubling you. I hope you have a wonderful day."
In the Sullivan District, lovers wait to see the Forget-Me-Nots bloom. If one is no longer there, the other would take a Forget-Me-Not, place it on their grave, and let the flower carry their longing to a faraway place.
