The drop finally landed, and hit the bullseye. It was one of many yet the only victorious of the profusion . Had it been more than it is, a stream perhaps, or a even stream, would it have affected its quiddity? It seems unlikely since despite existing a full instance, it suffers from an inability to create meaning, a privilege unfairly reserved for sentient creatures.

With its end, a wright, was heralded as it exploded and dispersed in all directions, wetting the recently dried palm that was extended to welcome its final embrace. With its existence's ending achieved, innumerable others followed its road, striking their own predisposed targets, as if to usher a cry of unity in the campaign of droplets. And cry they did, as a loudest cry rang out amidst the bustling city and trying to drown out all noises except their own.

All sounds turned muffled at that moment, only scattering followed such an event as multitudes of people reached for their umbrellas and sheltered themselves from these falling beasts, and their commander lighting up the sky, like an angry Thor.

The people, with no concern for such a common event chose to seek shelter from the rain and escape the great wettening. A palm, finally wet, retracted itself into the jetted pocket and dragged out an umbrella, unassumingly filled with a matte color from handle to ferrule.

Another hand held onto a folder, gripping the binder spine while the legs briskly sped up to the nearest shelter. His newly bought coat was drenched as he finally reached the underground stairs, leading to the train station. His eyes glazed over and a hiss escaped his mouth when he saw the drenched newly bought 3 piece. With a slightly downpour mood, he scanned his card, boarded the train and sat in the back, the farthest from the door as he can be.

Putting the umbrella on the side of his seat, he opened up the document and started reading with all the concentration he could muster. These things had read, had memorized and had practiced but they still made him wonder who came up with such questions. It was truly eye opening.

In the next moment, he closed his folder and looked up, and there stood something one might consider strange, yet normal. A man, who looked to be in his fourties' held his hands behind his back as he was walked from door to towards the back of the train . This wouldn't warranty any strangeness alas, the slow walk, in such an environment where most passengers where fighting for seats, seemed out of place that he couldn't help but look over.

The man made eye contact with him, giving him a fright, as he had no choice but to smile at him as a show of good naturedness. The man however, took it as an invitation and walked unhesitatingly towards his direction, and even tried to sit on his umbrella. He apologized and hurriedly removed the umbrella from his seat and let him have it.

An outstretched arm headed his way and a slow but pleasant voice rang from his side.

"Morning trains am I right? By the way, you look familiar."

"Is that so? Maybe I just have that type of face."He replied, slowly shifting in his seat and facing the man who seemed interested in a little chat.

"No, I'm certain I know you. Jim. You were at that APA conference, I was one of the guys from NBCC team that sat 3 chairs behind you, don't you remember me?"

"Oh, Mawry, you looked completely different that I didn't recognize you. It's been ages since that conference."

Unknowingly, Jim had leaned back into the chair opened up his palms and spoke expressively, as this felt more natural to him.

"Yeah, it's been what, a few years? You should have finished your studies by now."

At the mention of this, Jim, once a student of the mind, but now a practitioner, released a cheeky grin. A hand reached into the folder and pulled out a laminated paper, on it was a snake coiled on a stick, and an italic stream of sentences. He showed it to Mawry, who grinned back in reciprocity. He uttered words of congratulations as their small but filling conversation progressed. The moment was soon interrupted however, by an announcement, sweetly blaring them out of their composed space and back into the loud bustling horde of people exiting the train as its destination had arrived; not one of itself, like the end of a drop during the rain but a designate halt for parting the people back into the roads and cities to which they belong.

Jim, as one of such fellow, stood up with Mawry and headed out of the train. Mawry suddenly grabbed the tail end of his coat and made him sit down. A serious atmosphere descended their midst sudden yet in harmony with the nature of things, which added to the strangeness Jim had been feeling. He fretted not, but headed to the commands of the recent stranger turned acquaintance and paid attention to what would happen next.

"We just talked about how you just graduated and in that time, it's impossible to have completed your 600 hours of internship and thus, I beseach you with a an opportunity. Hold on let me grab something."

Within light jacket, a check was pulled out, on which a generous amount was denoted in blue ink. Laying eyes on this, Jim didn't know what say but he felt unprecedentedly excited yet slightly suspicious.

"Here, have this. It will be while before you gain your LPLC and in the meantime, I need your help. I have but a small workshop for slightly different clients. You have worked with the northern branch of our NBCC team so you should know how everything works. Here is the address, and email for when you're available to meet."

Slightly shaky fingers gingerly held the piece of paper, a thin, brittle, little denouncement of an end of a magestic life of a tree, one whose memory had been lost to the cruel nature and its life snuffed out by chipper, a machine beast that churns out gazillions of papers that this one tree had been a part of. However with the terminus came genesis, with the end of a life of a tree, came the fons er origo, the start of an adventure the moment Jim took the card.

And in true fashion with the event, Mawry held up his arm, smiled, and disappeared into thin air. This event, in its unnaturalness, was witness by no man, no creature, and even the tools mankind is proud of for capturing eternal records caught this moment and the world went on as usual.Like a quotidian, Jim failed to notice this too, as he was nothing but such at the moment.