The rain threatened. The skies were high with cloud whisked up by a sudden, belligerent breeze that revealed, in flashes, its dark intent. People, sans umbrellas or raincoats, hurried home — some from work, some to work. Streets were jammed with traffic; tempers frayed, people were anxious to get to someplace dry and safe. The rank odours of petrochemical exhaust mingled with the welcome mineral scent of petrichor.
And then something small, tiny and determined squiggled across the road in a purposeful quest to get to the other side.
This is that moment.