I saw her again today. The girl with the red umbrella. She was standing at the corner of Maple Street, just like last week, watching the rain paint silver streaks on the pavement. I've been taking this route home from work for months, but she only started appearing three weeks ago.

At first, I thought it was a coincidence. Maybe she was waiting for someone. But today, when our eyes met through the rain, I felt this strange pull like she was trying to tell me something without words. Her umbrella was the only splash of color in the gray afternoon, a bright red beacon in the mist.

I wanted to stop, to ask if she was okay, but something held me back. Maybe it was the way she looked at me, like she knew something I didn't. Or maybe it was the way she disappeared into the fog as soon as I blinked, leaving only the echo of rain on concrete.

I know it sounds crazy, but I can't shake the feeling that she's trying to show me something. Tomorrow, I'm going to bring my camera. If she appears again, I'll capture the moment proof that I'm not imagining things. Or maybe I am. Maybe the rain and the long hours at work are playing tricks on my mind.

But what if they're not? What if there's something more to these chance encounters? I guess I'll find out tomorrow. For now, I'll keep watching, waiting, and wondering about the girl with the red umbrella.