Friday, November 02, 2007



On Saturday the sky was dark and gloomy. You were half an hour late but lovingly apologetic. It did not happen as it does in the movies. It took us a few minutes or so before we got comfortable with each other. Our faces looked a little older. The eyes did not. Just as you promised we walked all around the city. I took you to all my favorite places. You know what; I don’t care what anybody says. This is a great city. I love it. It just breathes life into me. This you did not like, still you just smiled and held my hand.

On Sunday it was crystal clear and freezing. I missed you. It was only when I gazed at your face in the light of the sun, I came to grips with that. The sound of the cracking leafs underneath our feet echoed like a Van Morrison song.


On Monday morning I woke up early, made myself a sandwich for lunch and walked to work. At around noon I was asked to go up to the top floor to pick up a misplaced letter addressed to me. The lift was busy and I decided to take the stairs. As I looked outside the window I noticed a single pink flower that had grown in the roof terrace of the adjacent building. I must have been the first and probably the only person to have seen it. It seemed peaceful and quiet, grown out of nothing in a place where nobody would ever be able to touch it. I stood there and stared at it. Just a lonely flower hidden from the world.

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