$BTC A sudden heavy rain, the black umbrella shivers under the eaves, water droplets condensing on its ribs. The rose curls up next to the trash can, its petals covered in mud. The umbrella remembers the warmth of being tightly held by a girl, while the rose longs for the gaze on the glass of the flower shop. When the elderly scavenger picks up the rose and places it in the groove of the umbrella handle, the rusted ribs of the umbrella suddenly tremble – it turns out they are both waiting to become cherished parts of each other's lives, together holding up a stubborn shade of red in the damp twilight.