It was pouring. Rain water was cascading down the flooded streets, too much of it for the drainage system to bear. Everywhere early morning commuters were huddling together under every available shelter. There was no escape from the lashing, wind-blown rain. The streets were lined with stalled cars. The wind was tremendous; it had uprooted trees and telephone poles during the night. It was chaos…

A white Mercedes moved slowly up the street towards the railway station, the water rising up from its wheels like a pair of wings. Then the car drove straight into a deeper wall of water and the engine spluttered and died.

The wet and bedraggled onlookers watched and waited for the occupants to get out. It gave them some satisfaction to see people clamber out of their posh cars and into knee-deep water. They usually got out swearing and cursing – but this driver was different. He sat busy in the car for a few minutes, and when he got out his trousers were neatly rolled up to his knees, showing thin, spindly legs. His shoes were tied together and hung around his neck. He was small and slightly built, with black hair streaked with grey. He had a thin, neatly trimmed moustache, and laughing grey-green eyes. He looked at the onlookers and gave them a big smile. Nobody smiled back.

He started edging around the car and was almost swept away by the water. His flailing hand grabbed, and held onto the side mirror. He held on for dear life. The people started laughing and pointing their fingers at him. Far from being annoyed, he also started laughing at his predicament. He held onto the car as he sloshed around it to reach the passenger side and open the door.

A girl in school uniform stepped out. She had long flowing hair and big green eyes.

Almost immediately their feet were swept from under the pair by the rushing water. They came up wet and spluttering for air, much to the delight of the onlookers. They looked at each other and they both burst out laughing. It was hilarious.

Everybody was laughing – except for a guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans. He was a tall, big-boned man, with his long, black hair plastered to his head by the rain. He had high cheek bones and his eyes were mere slits in his face. The long eye-lashes that were almost touching his face looked like a pair of curtains covering a window. He was drugged to his eye-balls and his face expressionless.

“Stupid idiots,” he muttered under his breath. Still … the happiness of the two people left an impression on him. He followed them from a distance as they ran through the driving rain into the station.

On the back of his jacket in big, bold, luminous letters were the words, ‘The Creep’.

***

Tell us what you think: Why would anyone have the words ‘The Creep’ on their jacket? What does it make you think about the man?