Something flashed by the corner of his eye and he pressed the brake, even if the car was already stopped. The street was empty, with the exception of other vehicles, as bored as him. The traffic light was now green and the rain did nothing but worsen.
He was made of a nervous nature. That is why driving in the middle of a storm made him worse than hysterical, with his view getting blurred and his throat drying. His heart beating to the point of being arrhythmic every time he thought he would not hit on the brakes in time. He had his lights on and he pressed the steering wheel while slow driving. The downpour decided to make a joke on him and the windscreen got soaked by the new strength of the water.
He captured him again by a reflection. A pedestrian, dressed like a white stain, dressed like a ghost, walked between the cars. Someone honked the horn but he looked simply calm in the rain, walking absent-mindedly. The image reflected like a fog on his pupils and the man tried to contain his heaving.
The rain became even heavier and even denser, when it looked like it was impossible for it to be even heavier and even denser. His head stop wondering about ghosts and he tried to calculate how much it was left for home. He decided to accelerate, worried.
He breathed with trouble and when he remembered he was driving, the young man was on the windscreen. It was a muffled blow, not audible under the sound of the enormous drops, the body drowning in the solid glass, breaking it into a slim scratch. The panic scaled quickly, stopping him from reaction. Moved by an external force, the victim got up slowly from the floor and, in pain; he continued his way down the street.
He took his time to recover his tranquillity, enough to start moving again. The windscreen wipers were making an effort in the tempest, and they started to complain loudly, until two blocks later they gave their last breath and fell down, defeated. The driver got his face closer to the glass and the steam that condensed round his view made him see ghostly figures.
The second one, a woman, hit the front of the car. She stayed motionless for some moments, stunned by the injury mad by the bumper. She was followed by a child, who went around the vehicle violently, pressing his hands on the glass without leaving a mark. After driving some meters it happened again.
Despite going slower every moment because of the storm, he couldn’t get the people to notice him and the evade him. They crossed over his car in a hurry, indifferent to his existence. Between the steam inside the car and the fog outside, the man could see a parade of ghosts and desperate people flooded the street.
He finally decided to ignore them too and he continued driving. The rain was a grey wall, and as solid as a wall too, invading every empty space and slowing his march down. When he looked by the window it appeared to him that the fishes were ghost too, and that they jumped from the stream to look at him with a curious look. The rain was so dense that made everything around to overflow that, for the fish, it was no difference in swimming in mid-air. The crowd turned more hopeless and the tempest insisted on being stronger and the man inside the car felt his clothes getting wetter.
Finally the street got into an avenue and in the cross path looked like a little river was running by. Now the landscape wasn’t just full of rain and people, it was a cemetery for empty cars, abandoned with the doors open and without order. The multitude, formed mainly by children, hit his car, pouncing on. They gave him the impression that they were running away. He decided to cross the river, but the front of his car drowned, it let itself to move with the stream before the motor finally choked in its last puff. The water got into his ankles.
He threw himself out. The stream didn’t want to let him open the door just to decide to hug him later. The storm was so thick that it wasn’t any free space to breathe. He tried to keep his breath inside, the water slipped through his body. He couldn’t know if he was blind because of the nerves or because of the ocean.
Then he felt it, the despair of the water itself. And he got running.