Nowadays I find my morning walks are incomplete, the empty roads are not exciting anymore, her pink jacket is invisible, she do not appear for any walks nowadays and I get myself prepared for another day to catch her up.
Here she comes, Thursday evening, in her purple jacket, I don’t mind this but this is odd, it is non-pink and something that is not pink doesn’t define her best, this is my habitual judgment for her happiness if it is not pink I feel she isn’t happy. Her eyes swallow and hands on the mouth, clutched and frequent puffs of hot air as if it is hard for her to breathe.
Her smell caught me out of my evening way back to home and she sat on another chair, she chose everything other that what I describe her every day with. She seemed lost, I stared at her and for a moment our eyes locked and it was terrific. How come her eyes meet mine and why was that blemishing my night today.
She gave me a small smile, I wish it was broader, I miss her grins.
She walked past me and I could not resist myself follow her. She stopped at her regular spot and talked something to her half pet dogs, she gave them puffed hairdressing with her hands, I wish I were a dog that moment of time and she walked, they all walked with her, except one tiny one, staring at me if I were to follow her love for another minute, I stood there breathless almost too faint because it scared me enough. She walked along when suddenly that tiny monster made his way to her. She walked with her gang of friends and I kept looking at her.
I wish to find her happy tomorrow or at least I want her to turn around and smile.
She did, damn! She did look behind and smile, or it is just my imagination.
I hope she is fine.