It is a rainy Sunday on a random corner of Manhattan, Springtime, present day. A man stands, alone, without an umbrella. He is getting drenched. He looks up for a moment until raindrops hit his eyes, whereupon he blinks and looks around him.
Man: I understand, whoever you are. I understand a little. Dreams don't follow you — you have to carry them along or else they slip away. And love... I had it all this time, never seeing that it could be so simple. That all I have to do is choose to feel. And I am alive! I still have a chance!
The man reaches up, closes his eyes and raises his face to the falling rain. With his fingers he feels the drops cascading down, and with his mouth open, he laughs and then swallows down the water falling from the sky.
