Pursuit (an acrostic poem) part 5

Pelting rain pounded on Mike’s fedora as he waited

Under a red umbrella, his prey walked out of the shop

Running across the street, Mike tried to get close

Slipping in a puddle, he fell hard to the pavement

Under his breath, he swore as he pushed himself back up

It seemed that the red umbrella had disappeared

The next swears were definitely out loud

 

Image: mcfcrandall.files.wordpress.com/2013/11/fl_umbrella1.jpg