Umbrella on rainy night

I raised my head with a snap. Outside the window, the dark night sky, reflecting the indoor lights, tens of millions of strands of silver into a water curtain, spilled to the ground, scattered into a layer of shallow waves, panning with silver glow, converged into a turbulent river, breaking the quiet summer night.
I wonder if my parents have an umbrella with them? It seems that they haven’t. I picked up the phone and dialed my mother’s number. The room was so quiet that only a long busy sound ran over my heart. Can’t something happen? No, no, no, they have two people…. The scenes of traffic accidents on rainy days that we have ever seen emerge in front of us one by one. The more we get out of it, the clearer it becomes. The other end of the phone never responded. Finally, I grabbed my umbrella and rushed out of the house.
The moon disappeared without trace; the wind played wilfully with the branches of the tree; the dim shadows of the lamp whirled in the rain; as if there were no end to the road, it was crushed by the surging water on the ground. I clenched my teeth, opened my umbrella and stepped into the river.
The rain passed over my ankle in a moment, and the chill came from the soles of my feet. The umbrella in his hand, with the rhythm of the wind, was flying like a magic, jumping, struggling, like a horse frightened. The warm lights faded away. I was gradually engulfed by the endless darkness. Be sure to send your umbrella! It’s hard to row along your parents’destination.
One of them stepped in the air, and I was in the dark, sitting in the water with a thump. The last warmth of the body was swept away by the rainwater passing by. The feeling faded gradually and the umbrella fell to one side. Soup chicken! What a irony! I never worried about carrying an umbrella from childhood to childhood. When other students looked out of the window with a melancholy face, I knew that after class and pushed open the door of the classroom, my parents would hold an umbrella and look at me lovingly. Now, can I touch those two warm umbrellas? I groped and stood up, picked up the umbrella. Rain seems to be small, the wind mixed with the fragrance of the soil, bringing a little warmth, umbrella is not naughty, standing steadily in hand. In my mind, the umbrella, the spring has been dull, the umbrella bone has been ricketed, the umbrella surface has been pierced with small holes, is it time, by my growing hands, to open an umbrella for them?
In the distance, the dazzling lights and the harsh noise of the commercial street gradually came and dyed the hazy sky red. Through the water curtain hanging from the eaves, I saw the two familiar figures.
The lights on the roadside should be in the water on the road, in a trance, like millions of golden suns, emitting light and heat. Under the bright lights, in the blurred night, on the empty river of light, an umbrella stands proudly!