the old man is snoring

It's raining in Tokyo. Pouring. The polished tiled streets are slick like silver oil. The heavy drops gravitate to the streets in a spray. Black suited business men carry a clear plastic umbrella in one hand and a briefcase in the other. Their tired faces rush ahead of their feet. Shiny taxis with bright white lace headrests dart purposefully. Ambassadors of travellers. Official transporters. Rush rain falls and splashes on koi languishing in the bottom of the pool under the half bloomed plum tree.