Butterfly

The metro had already dipped snugly beneath the soil, by the time she got in.
The rain drops, from the world above, shimmered on the fiber glass windows, fighting to hang on.
Past all the faces, in one corner, sat flightless, two tiny white wings, thoroughly drenched.
She carelessly shoved her hand inside her bag to grope for the umbrella, which sat there, wet and blue. She breathed a sigh of relief; for today her wings were safe.