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George hated Monday's, even more so in the winter; it was a grey and depressing day in the city. People pushed and shoved as they desperately tried to find shelter from the large spots of rain that had started falling.
Someone barged into him, knocking his sandwich out of his hands, mayonnaise streaked down his shirt; tomato landed on the toe of his shoe. He usually kept his cool, but he wanted to give them a piece of his mind.
"Oh! Shit! I'm so sorry. Please, let me help clean that up?" a voice said.
And when he looked up, his stony face was met by a mass of windswept ginger curls and a rain-streaked face, with the biggest grin and bright blue eyes.
For a moment he forgot where he was, and Rainy days and Monday's didn't seem so bad after all.
