The rain poured down so quickly and violently, we didn’t even have time to get back into the row of stores we had just left, and ended up standing under a ledge watching the downpour. The lady approached us timidly, raising her little sign showing her craft. I enthusiastically obliged.
She worked quickly, creating an amazing pattern in the matter of minutes. I was told to keep it dry for at least 15 minutes, but we found a cab and ran through the rain to get in, and smudged part of the flower. Still, it was beautiful, and stayed on my hand until I went back to work. Unfortunately my boss didn’t think it was very professional to decorate your hand with henna. That was one of the few times where I acutely noticed the difference in tolerance and cultural understanding between China and the US.
I tried to scrub it off, but the henna stain was stubborn. I watched it fade a little one day at a time, and one day it became just a faint shadow that I had to look hard to find. And one day when I tried to look for it again, it was gone.
Sometimes, time just takes care of everything.
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