Everyone filed onto the peculiar hybrid tractor bus with purpose. I looked out at the fields where we had undoubtedly spent the entire morning, afternoon, who knows, possibly even the evening ploughing.
The rich brown soil held the seeds we had firmly planted in the ground.
Suddenly, it began to rain, and the clouds shifted unnaturally, darkening as desaturated blue and pink streaks of light burst from the sun, cascading down like tears.
"Pink rain," I said, extending my hands as people hurried onto the bus, their pace quickening. I observed the rain gently collecting in my palms, pink streaks of what felt like water dripping from the palms of my hands and down my head.
Then suddenly, I felt a dark orange material drape over my head. I turned to see Jun, drenched and wearing only his school shirt. "You'll get wet," he said quietly.
I nodded but quickly decided to take matters into my own hands. I removed his blazer and pulled it over his head.
